


A Screwed Beginning

by butxaxdream



Category: Harvest Moon: A New Beginning
Genre: A New Beginning, Gen, Harvest Moon - Freeform, M/M, crackfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butxaxdream/pseuds/butxaxdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry was a normal guy with a normal amount of contempt for the world. After being entrusted with his family's farm, he was determined to become successful and self-made to prove his doubtful family wrong. But he had no idea that through his efforts to restore the village that he called home, he'd be living alongside some very strange (and often disturbing) characters.</p><p>Now Henry must struggle with farm life, insecurities, forbidden feelings, and the desire to murder nearly half the village. Let the screwing begin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Screwed Beginning

_Henry, Henry! This is terrible! You need to help that person on the ground!_  
  
“No.”  
  
 _What do you mean no? He could be dying! Quickly, help him!_  
  
“No.”  
  
 _Go over there and help him, you stupid bitch._  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Maybe Henry was crazy. Maybe this was all just a dream. Or a dream within a dream. Maybe none of this was real at all.  
  
But something possessed him to obey the demands of that imaginary voice. Maybe it was because the voice, although squeaky, had called him a stupid bitch.  
  
Henry leaned over the thin, gray haired man on the ground. “Hey? You alive?” He nudged him with his foot once or twice, then looked up at the sky. “Voice, I think he’s dead.”  
  
Get him something to drink, quickly!  
  
“What? Am I supposed to magically pull a cup of water out of my ass--” Henry stopped when he noticed the river just a few feet away. “Oh, right.”  
  
The young man, no older than twenty-three, dragged the older man’s limp body to the edge of the lake. After a bit of huffing from the extraneous physical work, he got on his knees. He then took a hold of the man’s head.  
  
“Old man, I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”   
  
With one swift motion, he smacked the man’s head against the water and dunked him. A second later, he pulled him back up and repeated the process until he heard a violent gasp. In a panic, the older man flailed and wriggled free while Henry just sort of stood there and let the guy cough and sputter and do whatever else he needed to do.  
  
“I swear I wasn’t waterboarding you. I just needed to wake you up before you died or something.”  
  
After getting himself together, the man gave a heavy sigh of relief and stood up before straightening his wild wild west hat. His face, hair, and beard were drenched but there was a smile on his face. “I must have passed out from heat exhaustion! Thanks for saving me. I really appreciate it.” He had a Southern accent, slightly gruff, though not much of a strong one.   
  
Henry stood up and gave a small shrug of the shoulders. “No problem?”  
  
“You must be Henry?”  
  
“The one and only. And you must be Dunhill? Father said you two were close friends.”  
  
The old man smiled, “Sure are! Henry, it's a pleasure finally being able to meet you. Were you filled in with all of the details before coming here?”  
  
“Pretty much, yeah--”  
  
“Great! I’m going to explain everything to you in a painstakingly thorough manner anyway!”  
  
“That’s not really necessary--”   
  
But, Dunhill was off, “So you’re now the proud owner of Echo Farm!” Then suddenly he frowned; no, rather, his entire expression dropped and he looked disappointed--grave, even. “I reckon you know why the previous owner left?”  
  
“Yeah, you told me all about it in your letter--”  
  
“A bad storm swept through the entire village. Completely destroyed almost all of the farmland. Poor Rachel packed up her animals and the few things she had left and took off the very next day.”  
  
“Well,” Henry slipped his hand into the pockets on his trousers. “I’m here to make something out of the wreckage, and I intend to do just that.”  
  
“That’s the spirit!” Dunhill was back to beaming at the young man. He straightened his hat and turned. “The village is just that way. How about you say we get a meal and check out your new home.”  
  
“Sounds good. Let me grab my stuff.” Henry walked over to his modest travel bags and bent over to pick them up.  
  
As he did so, Dunhill seemed to be examining something on Henry’s backside very closely, very deeply. He stroked his beard and nodded his head in thought. “You know, you look just like your dad from behind.”  
  
“... Don’t say that ever again. Ever.”  
  


* * *

  
After a hearty meal of grits and other extremely Southern things, Dunhill showed Henry to the farm. On the way, he pointed out several shops and houses and promised that Henry would get to meet everyone really soon. He even mentioned that there were several nice girls living in town, to which Henry feigned enthusiasm.   
  
The farm itself was in a sad state, but it wasn’t a complete mess. There were several small gravel fields in tact, a barn, and traces of wreckage scattered about. Most of the trees had began growing back, but the soil was torn up in places--a scar left on the earth from the storm.  
  
Henry exhaled through his nose and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You know, it’s not so bad.”  
  
Dunhill stood beside him. “I’m confident that you’ll be able to restore the farm and this village.”  
  
“Yeah-- _say what?_ ”  
  
“Oh, yeah! I forgot to mention it in the letter, but even though Rachel fixed up Echo Village a little bit, there’s still a lot more we can do to make this a thriving community. The people here pulled together and started coming up with Restoration Plans for you to complete. You get to be our Honorary Town Coordinator! You get to build facilities--houses, businesses, amenities--to get this town looking lively and pretty enough to attract revenue--I mean, more people.”  
  
“Isn’t that just another way of saying you’re going to make me single handedly build this entire town for you?”  
  
Dunhill roared with laughter and shook his head. “Youngsters these days! Well, I’m heading back out. Feel free to get acquainted with the land, and make sure to get a good night’s sleep, because I have a lot planned for you tomorrow!”  
  
“Oh, joy. Well... thanks, Dunhill. I shall be fully rested for whatever fun adventure you've planned for tomorrow.”  
  
Henry waved as Dunhill walked off. When he was left to himself, he suddenly remembered the squeaky voice that had called to him from the heavens earlier. Had it really been a dream? Maybe he’d find out sooner or later, but for the meantime he settled in.  
  
It was well into the evening when Henry finished tidying up the small farm. He’d gathered a pile of branches, weeds, and rocks and threw them into the storage sheds. With the farm looking much cleaner, he figured he’d earned a good rest. But just as he was heading back inside his cozy country cottage, something stopped him.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a thin white object lying on the ground, trapped under a small branch he’d missed earlier. It was a piece of paper blowing gently in the wind. Stricken with curiosity, Henry picked up the crumpled paper; it was damp and torn here and there, so his best guess was that it was leftover trash from the storm.  
  
But it had writing on it. It was a letter. So, of course he read it.  
  
 _To Whom It May Concern:_  
  
 _And so he was dead._  
  
 _That was a very low point for us. Our lives were continually threatened by a situation we had no business being in, a close friend just killed a man and then himself, and more and more we were beginning to wonder if we could trust anyone._  
  
 _But then I put a magical sausage in Cliff’s pants and he came back to life._  
  
Henry read the letter over again. And again. And he tried, so very hard, to understand what he’d just read. The letter was damp, crumbled, and the words were worn and faded a little, but he was sure that’s what the letter said. But what did it mean?  
  
 _And so he was dead... Our lives were continually threatened..._  
 _beginning to wonder if we could trust anyone.... a magical sausage..._  
  
Henry didn’t know why, but he kept the letter.   
  
He slipped it into his pocket and headed to bed.


	2. HOT a What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dunhill drags Henry around town to meet all of Echo Village's wonderful inhabitants. Henry finds himself either pissed off, unimpressed, or highly disturbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna see a map of what the village looks like, see here (http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y237/shukumei_destiny/town1_zps4c884044.png) and here (http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y237/shukumei_destiny/town2_zps4d827a9e.png).

“Henry, you awake? I’m coming in!”  
  
Before Henry could make a cry of protest, the door flung open and in came Dunhill. Henry screamed, and it didn’t take Dunhill long to figure out why: Henry was naked.  
  
With a blush on his face, Henry quickly grabbed the blanket and held it up to cover his crotch pistol. He cried, “What the hell, Dunhill?!”  
  
“Oh, pardon me! No worries, no worries. We’re both men, right? We can see each other in the nude without no harm being done. Heck, we could even bath together and it wouldn’t be weird.”  
  
“I—what? No!”  
  
“Why do you sleep naked, anyway?”  
  
“I like the breeze.”  
  
Dunhill just laughed. “Well, put some clothes on because today’s a big day! You get to meet all the wonderful people living here in Echo Village!”   
  
Henry stood there and stared at Dunhill, who stared back without uttering a word. An uneasy feeling crept over him, and finally he cleared his throat.  
  
“Aren’t you going to leave so I can change?”  
  
“What? Oh, right. Youngsters and their privacy these days.”  
  


* * *

  
As Dunhill lead Henry out of the farm, they first came to a house with a purple picket fence. A busy looking lady with a strange affection for apples greeted them with a smile, “Hello, dear! You must be Henry. I think it’s wonderful that you decided to take over the farm after poor Rachel took off.”  
  
“Henry, this is Emma, the resident shipper.”  
  
Henry smiled politely at the cheerful woman. “Shipper? What does a shippper do?”  
  
“Takes off her clothes for money!” Dunhill chimed in.  
  
Emma frowned. “No, Dunhill. That’s a _stripper_.”  
  
“Ooh, right. My hearing aint the best, I’ll tell you that.”  
  
Emma continued, “Hun, as a shipper I constantly dream up relationships between the villagers here... who would look good dating who, who makes a cute couple, that kind of thing! And if two people are dating and I like it, I will support them ‘til the end! Usually shipping involves wishing everyone partake in homoerotic activities and writing stories about it.”  
  
Henry raised a brow, but felt slightly intrigued. “Well, that all sounds creepy as hell, but it was nice meeting you, Emma.”  
  
“Pleasure’s all mine, hun.” Then she leaned in, curious and excited look on her face. “Now tell me, what’s your gender preference? Oh, who am I kidding?” She laughed. “I’ll just make you gay anyway! Most likely with Neil or Allen!”  
  
Before Henry could say anything, Dunhill pushed him along as Emma muttered to herself ideas about the next slashfic she could write.  
  
Next, they stepped inside the General Store. Dunhill and Hana greeted each other with a warm hug (perhaps a little too warm) and Dunhill introduced her to Henry.  
  
“Henry, this is Hana. She runs the store here and she sells important items for beginning farmers, like crops with atrociously low star levels and the basic gardening tools.”  
  
“Pleasure meeting you, dear,” the cute old lady greeted with a smile.  
  
Just then, Henry saw something flailing out of the corner of his eye. When he jerked his head to the left, he yelped. “SON OF A-- _What is that?!_ ”  
  
On the floor was a terrifying looking man with giant, monkey-like ears and hair that sort of resembled a snow-peaked Mt. Fuji. He was flopping around like a fish, even opening and closing his mouth in a fish-like manner. “Glub glub, glub glub,” he muttered every so often.  
  
“Oh, that’s my husband,” Hana began with a frown. “He was just released from the institute last month. I missed him dearly, so I’m happy to have him back.”  
  
“Glub glub.”  
  
“Oh, Kosaburo, you fox,” Hana giggled as he walked back behind the counter.  
  
Dunhill straightened his cowboy hat. “Hmph. Maybe he needed to stay a lil’ longer.”  
  
“Oh, Dunhill, don’t be silly.”  
  
Henry slowly inched his way back out of the door as Dunhil and Hana got into a discussion. When he turned around, he was face-to-face with a pink haired creature that slightly resembled a beloved Sailor Moon character. The girl’s big, red eyes were staring right into his soul, and her smile made Henry uneasy.  
  
“Hi there!” Her high-pitched voice made Henry shiver. “I’m Michelle! The resident cutie and bestest magician!” Her eyes narrowed and her smile shifted into a coy grin as she poked Henry in the chest. “Oooh, what’s your name, tiger?”  
  
God, let this please be a bad dream.  
  
“H-Henry.”  
  
Michelle giggled. “Teehee! I knew that. I just wanted to hear you say it yourself.”  
  
Henry was too busy feeling terrified to notice that Dunhill had walked out of the General Store and was standing behind him.  
  
“Hello there, Michelle!  
  
“Good morning, Dunhill,” she greeted sweetly as she laced her fingers together behind her back. “I was just introducing myself to Henry. He seems like such a nice guy!”  
  
“He does, doesn’t he? I’m sure you’ll get along reeeeal well.” Dunhill nudged Henry lightly and gave him a wink.  
  
“Oh, joy...”  
  
Henry resisted the urge to tell them both that was more of an asshole than a nice guy, but Dunhill pushed him along again--while the pink haired thing waved them goodbye--as they headed across the road to meet an even bigger asshole.  
  
“I don’t have time to deal with a noob farmer,” grunted a blonde with messy hair as he lifted crates onto his horse cart.  
  
Dunhill frowned. “Neil! Why do you always have to act like your time is so valuable? What do you even do all day?”  
  
Neil shoved his hands into his pockets. “Tch. I work.”  
  
“Stalking people’s cows and sneaking into their barns early in the morning isn’t work. In fact, it’s a little troubling.”  
  
“Dunhill, you don’t know me! You don’t know my life.”  
  
Henry decided to interject before things got worse, “Hi, the name’s Henry.”   
  
“Don’t care.”  
  
“Wow. Okay. Well you’re just a little ray of sunshine, huh?”  
  
“I’m not all rainbows and butterflies, and I don’t pretend to be.”  
  
“I happen to like rainbows.”  
  
“Rainbows are stupid.”  
  
“Wow. Masterful retort.”  
  
“Would a better retort have been me kicking sand in your eyes?”  
  
Just then Emma, who had snuck over to them in the midst of their fighting, whispered with twisted glee, “The sexual tension between you two is incredible.”  
  
“Emma, go back to your stripping!” Dunhill scolded as he dragged Henry away from Neil. The two glared daggers at each other and the distance between them grew as Henry was dragged back across the street to a cute little salon.  
  
He imagined the owner would be a kind, middle aged lady who’d been cutting hair in this village for years. All the people knew her and liked her, and she’d gossip harmlessly with the other ladies when they got their hair done. She probably had a really pretty daughter who liked reading and riding horses.  
  
Henry had never been so wrong before in his entire life.  
  
As soon as they walked in, a little bell above the door chimed and the smell of fancy shampoos hit their noses. At the counter there were two red headed young men talking. The one with the more scarlet hair and a smug look on his face was just finishing the story he’d been telling the other boy, “I’m not saying he was a stupid bitch. But yeah, he was a stupid bitch.”  
  
“Allen, Yuri!” Dunhill beamed, walking over to them.   
  
The one in glasses looked up and nodded while the thin, lighter haired fellow turned around and answered meekly, “Hi...”  
  
And then Henry noticed it when Yuri turned to face him. Bam. Titties. Not very noticeable, but Henry began to doubt his initial judgement of the person.  
  
Dunhill continued to introduce Henry to them. “You two, this is Henry--the guy I told you about. He’s here to swoop in and spruce up humble, budding village through relentless physical labor and item hoarding! Henry, this here is Allen--there you go, shake hands--and he runs the salon. And this here is Yuri. She’s the tailor. Her shop is right next door.”  
  
So Yuri was definitely not a boy after all.  
  
But the one thing that made Henry uncomfortable was Allen. He could practically feel the other's judgmental glance as the stylist looked him up from his shoes to his hat. Henry just knew that every piece of his clothing, every little detail that was scuffed and every little hair that was out of place, was being judged.  
  
If Allen were a cake, the first layer would be a fairly attractive meterosexual-maybe-kinda-homosexual guy. The second layer would be a sassy egoist. The third layer would be an elitist who was way too vocal about what was on his mind and didn't mind his words. And the fourth layer would be pure Satanic bitchiness.   
  
And the problem was, you couldn’t just bite into Allen cake one layer at a time. You take one bite and you get the whole damn thing.  
  
“Saving the town, hm? Oh, how heroic. Well,” Allen propped an elbow up on the counter and leaned forward, a curious and slightly mischievous smile on his lips, “if you ever need assistance with your appearance, I’ll gladly help you out. I am, after all, the best at what I do.” And then he added with a grin, “From the looks of it, we’ll probably need to be seeing each other very often.”  
  
Before Henry could make himself look stupid as he fumbled with what to say in return, Yuri chimed in and saved the day, “As Dunhill said... I own the Tailor next door... I can make you clothes if you bring me the material...”  
  
Henry’s brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re the tailor. Shouldn’t you have all the stuff you need to make clothes already? In what ass backwards world does the customer need to bring materials to the manufacturer?”  
  
Dunhill roared with laughter. “Henry! You’ll soon realize that everything in this world requires way more effort than it’s worth! Come on, I’ll introduce you to the architect. Oh, you’re gonna love this one, haha!”  
  
“Bye,” Allen purred as he and Yuri waved them off.   
  
A very confused and disappointed Henry followed Dunhill down the dirt path a little ways. At the end of the road, they came across the Architect’s house. Inside, Henry was introduced to a determined looking woman named Rebecca. She explained her job,  
  
“I create blueprints for buildings, amenities, tools, you name it.”  
  
“Wait, why would I want to buy a blueprint? You can’t seriously expect me, who has literally no experience in building, to interpret your blue prints and make all these various, complex buildings and structures, right?”  
  
Rebecca laughed. “If it makes you feel better, I sell materials to help in the construction process.”  
  
“Well, at least it’s something. So you sell everything I could ever need to make essential buildings and cool decorations?”  
  
Rebecca laughed again, harder this time. “Hell no! I only provide just a small, small selection. The rest of the stuff you have to bust your ass for.”  
  
Henry stared at her. “That’s... fantastic. I'm starting to see a pattern here. You know, I half expected Allen to want me to bring my own damn shampoo for a haircut.” Then he mocked in Allen’s very recognizable voice, “And bring me two pieces of scrap metal so I can craft together a pair of scissors for this session. Also, your outfit looks very unfabulous today. But that’s just my expertassessment.”  
  
Dunhill and Rebecca seemed to get a kick out of that, and the architect was still snickering about it as the men headed out.  
  
By that time it was getting a little late so they decided to drop in Chez Clement for lunch. There they met the chef and his assistant. They were both nice enough, and the young lady had a pleasant air about her. Henry didn’t like it.  
  
As they ate, Dunhill asked in a hushed voice, “So, what do you think of Felicity?”  
  
Henry stopped, fork halfway into his mouth. “Huh?”  
  
“She’s one of Echo Village’s bachelorettes. She’s pretty cute too!”  
  
“Dunhill, you’re like eighty-five years old. Don’t call a young woman cute.”  
  
“Eighty-five! You say the darndest things, Henry!”  
  
“Yeah, well, she’s alright. Sure, she’s pretty. But I don’t care too much for cheerful people.”  
  
“Well, there’s plenty o’ fish in the sea! Michelle and Yuri are both prime marriage candidates.”  
  
“Are we sure that Yuri likes men?”  
  
“Say what?”  
  
Henry winced. “Sorry, that was pretty ignorant of me. Anyway... I dunno, Dunhill. I might have to rule Michelle out.”  
  
“And why’s that?”  
  
“Have you spent more than five seconds with her?”  
  
“Sure have! She’s a very friendly young woman.”  
  
“A little too friendly.”  
  
Just then the restaurant doors flew open and in walked a dazzling man--no, literally, he kind of sparkled--with an impressive chin and sweeping jawline. Between his fingers was a beautiful red rose. He was handsome and charming in his own right, and Henry was quickly mesmerized.   
  
“Good afternoon, Clement! I’ll have the usual, thank you.”  
  
That’s all it took for the chef to nod knowingly and start preparing a dish for this intriguing, god-like man. Henry could have sworn he noticed Felicity blush and sigh dreamily.  
  
“Charles, good to see you!” Dunhill beamed as he stood up. “Hey, I want you to meet Henry. He’s the kid I told you about. The one who’ll be taking over after Rachel. Say hi to Charles, Henry.”  
  
Henry swallowed. “H-Have my babies.”   
  
He gasped. He had he really just said that? Charles must have been giving off a strange, seductive pheromone!  
  
“Pleasure meeting you, Henry! I’m one of the most skilled pilots in the region, and I would be delighted to fly you anywhere your heart desires.” Then he winked and leaned in. “But it’ll cost you.”  
  
Henry felt his loins ignite.   
  
Dunhill had to practically pry Henry out of his seat so they could continue their adventure. The young man couldn't take his eyes off Charles’ dazzling figure as he was dragged out of the restaurant.  
  


* * *

  
The west side of town was slightly less eventful. First they came across a young woman named Olivia, who gave off an aroma of chamomile and cherries. Apparently, she ran a tea and dessert stand on the weekends.  
  
Going up a small hill, they came to a row of houses; two on the right and three on the left. On the right lived a spunky looking journalist with questionable hair. Next door to her unnecessarily large house was a cozy, Eastern style home. Outside was a man relaxing under a sun shade and happily chewing on an old, rusty coin.  
  
Yes, he was snacking on an old coin.  
  
Much to Henry’s dismay, one of the houses on the left belonged to Michelle. And much to his dismay again, the house next to hers belonged to a youthful, lively blond kid. Henry wasn’t sure if was 21 or 12, but his name was Rod.  
  
Next to Rod lived the blacksmith who, coincidentally, didn’t do any blacksmithing at all.   
  
Then they hiked up to the upper right hand corner of the town, where Henry met a man who hated life more than he did. Klaus, the local doctor, was a strange looking fellow who was bitter about everything and didn’t smile even once during the introduction. Henry knew they’d become best friends.  
  
A little ways down the path from the clinic was a blank and homely lot that Dunhill called the “Gardening Space.” After hearing its purpose described, Henry decided he wanted nothing to do with it.  
  
Then they headed west for the upper left hand corner of the town. There stood a gorgeous, exotic mansion and in front of it a lavish fountain and attractive brick plaza with flowery decorations.  
  
“This is where Amir and his male escort live,” Dunhill explained.  
  
Henry stopped dead in his tracks. “Say that one more time.”  
  
“Huh? Oh, Amir and his male escort!” Then the older man frowned and stroked his beard. “Well, he could’a said either butler, or male escort. I couldn’t tell which one. I’m hard at hearing, ya know. Well, go on and give it a knock!’ Dunhill urged.  
  
Cautiously, Henry knocked on the gleaming double doors. A few seconds passed before the door opened and a young man with a dark complexion and snow-white hair greeted him, one half inside the mansion and the other half out.  
  
“Oh, good evening. We were not expecting any visitors.” But then he saw Dunhill standing behind Henry and he gave them a soft, polite smile. “You must be Henry?” The man stepped out and bowed gently. “I’m sure everyone here is very happy to finally be meeting you.”  
  
“Uh, hey,” Henry offered, holding up a hand as his greeting.   
  
The man only smiled kindly at Henry’s awkwardness. “My name is Sanjay, and I reside here with Master Amir. I watch after this home very carefully, and I am profoundly grateful to Rachel for building it for us. I’m sure your work as Town Coordinator will be no less admirable.”  
  
Henry was still trying to figure out if this guy was a male escort or not. ‘Master Amir’ gave some pretty strong escort-y signals. Henry imagined this ‘Amir’ character would be an old businessman with gray hair and plenty of concubines lying around his palace.   
  
“Sanjay? Do we have visitor?” A faint voice said from behind Sanjay, somewhere in the house. Seconds later, the actual Amir slipped outside alongside his escort(?) to greet them himself.  
  
And it was the very moment Henry laid eyes on Amir that he saw a glimpse of heaven.  
  
Harps and horns began singing in the background, a glorious white light shone down on Amir’s beautiful figure, tears started to form in the corner of Henry’s eyes, his loins were ignited once again as a choir of cupids and cherubs burst out in wondrous song, and he forgot all about the nobody he’d met at the restaurant. Charles who?  
  
Only Amir’s sweet voice could break him out of his daydream. “Oh, so you’re Henry. Dunhill has spoken so many of your praises that he got us all very excited for your coming.” He smiled--a glorious, perfect smile--and continued, “Sanjay already introduced us, then?”  
  
Henry chewed on his bottom lip. He couldn’t open his mouth. If he did, something bad would come out. But the lovely man had just beckoned to him, and it would be a sin to ignore an angel. Henry made a small grunting noise as he struggled inwardly, but finally his lips parted and he gasped out,   
  
“HOT a What Baabhabhiatahhahahha...!!”  
  
The three other man stared at him like in absolute confusion (and perhaps fear).   
  
Amir blinked. “Come again?”  
  
“H-Hi. Henry is, uh... yeah, Henry is my name. Uh... I-I... you’re pretty--GAH!” Henry yanked his hat off and ruffled it in frustration. Again, the other three stared at him in confusion and concern. After a few seconds, Henry pulled himself together and slipped his cap back on. “Hi. Name’s Henry, but you already knew that. Right... Uh, it’s a pleasure meeting you, really.” He smiled as best he could. “I promise I’ll try not to disappoint everyone as Town Coordinator.”  
  
And then Henry started to slowly inch away before he could ruin their image of him even further.  
  
Dunhill noticed. “Hey, where are you going? Henry? Henry!”  
  


* * *

  
Just east of the mansion sat Dunhill’s cozy abode. It was there that they parted ways for the evening.  
  
“Well, Henry, aint this a nice little village? We might be an odd bunch at times, but we’re all goodhearted, hard workin’ people. Now, you go get yourself some well deserved sleep. I’ll probably stop by in the morning to annoy you with another unnecessary cut scene.”  
  
“I look forward to it, Dunhill. Just make sure you knock beforehand, okay?” Henry turned to leave, but stopped suddenly. After a second or two of silence, he asked, “Hey, who lives over there?”  
  
He was referring to the house across the road. It was a dark, ominous house with a pointed roof that look like a witch’s hat.  
  
Dunhill’s face quickly paled, and he swallowed. “Don’t go near that house. That’s all I can say.”  
  
Henry was genuinely alarmed but asked no further questions. He waved Dunhill goodbye and found himself walking back home more quickly than he normally would have. Before turning into the main part of town, he looked back to the dark house and gave it one last glance. Then he turned back, pulled his jacket together, and walked off into the cool air of the Spring night.  
  


* * *

  
Henry figured he might as well start a diary, or at least a journal where he could write down all his insulting thoughts and feelings. So, began:  
  
 _I’m not sure what to think about Allen. I either want to punch him in the mouth or make out with him. Probably both._  
  
 _Everyone else is either an asshole, scary as hell, or boring. I don’t think I’ve quite met everyone yet, but I have high hopes for the future. Not._  
  
 _Okay, maybe that was a little pessimistic. Sorry._  
  
 _I know Dunhill wants me to bone one of the bachelorettes, but I have no idea who I’d court if I were even into that kind of thing. I dunno, maybe Yuri. I dig the boyishness._  
  
 _I can’t stop thinking about that creepy ass witch house. Whoever lives there must be terrifying. Maybe she’s some kind of necromancer._  
  
 _She’s probably just a really nice old lady. This town is full of anti-climatic surprises._  
  
 _I can't stop thinking how I made such an ass of myself in front of Amir and his... escort? Butler?_  
  
 _I really hope Amir is gay._  
  
Henry closed his journal and set it in the drawer in the nightstand. Then he saw the strange note he’d picked up the other night. It still confused the hell out of him, but he secretly hoped he’d find other related letters so he could maybe piece together a coherent story.  
  
Turning off the kerosene lamp, Henry slipped into bed. This time, with wearing boxers.  
  


* * *

  
The cold basement was lit dimly with a candles sitting in a circular formation on the dark, stony floor. A sort of occult symbol was smeared into the stone with a crimson fluid, and around the circle were various objects like bones of animals, an eyeball or two, and several melting scoops of ice cream.  
  
Michelle walked down the creaking wooden stairway as she swatted cobwebs from her face. She stood at the bottom and cleared her throat.  
  
On the other side of the room, past the bloody symbol and the candles, was a hunchbacked figure in a dark cloak.  
  
“Master,” she uttered, but the figure did not move. “I am having difficulties finding what you desire.”  
  
The old woman in the cloak hissed, “Have you failed your mission, Michelle?”  
  
“It’s just that... you require the blood of adult virgins, but there are none in this town! Everyone has either given or received--and some have done both.” Michelle sighed in frustration, “Oh, I know Yuri is a virgin, but... she’s my best friend. I couldn’t do that to her.”  
  
“What about the new boy?”  
  
Michelle’s eyes widened. “Henry? The guy who just moved in?”  
  
“Yessss...”  
  
“I was hoping he wouldn’t stay a virgin for long, if you know what I mean.”  
  
“Michelle... do you want your greatest desire? Do you want ultimate power?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“Then stop thinking with your vagina and start thinking with your brain, you fool!”  
  
The candles flickered as a gust of wind threw through the basement from out of nowhere. Michelle gulped.   
  
“Yes, Master.”  
  
“If I do not have the blood of a virgin by the next full moon, you will be sorry. Fiery hell wil rain down upon this village and darkness will swallow up mortal soul!”  
  
“Now you’re being a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”  
  
“Go! Be gone! My hour is almost nigh! But mark my words, Michelle, and hold fast to your promise.”  
  
“Yes, Master Sandra. You will have what you want before the next full moon.”


	3. Mad With Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry takes full advantage of his new found power as town coordinator, meanwhile discovering that A New Beginning's "game mechanics" are a little bit wonky.

_He was standing on a cliff with his father.  
  
It was overhanging the ocean, and they were talking about trivial things that he couldn’t remember the moment they left his lips. Neither of them cared for what was being said.  
  
Then his brother and mother joined them. Henry stared off into the blue horizon for an unmarked amount of time before someone started to shout. His father was lashing out.  
  
You’ll never amount to anything. Why aren’t you as smart or successful as your brother? Self-pity is pathetic.  
  
Henry reached out for his brother, tried to grab him to throw him onto the jagged, rocky graveyard below.   
  
But he couldn’t because suddenly he felt himself falling. His family watched, faces blank, dead. Their eyes showed nothing because they didn’t care._  
  
A sharp pain surged through Henry’s back and jolted him into consciousness. The sensation of falling made his heart thunder in his chest, and he lay in bed as he tried to calm his breathing. All the while, he was processing the dream. He didn’t remember much, only his father’s insults, the burning desire to kill his brother, and the fall. And although his breathing eventually calmed, he couldn’t shake the dread.  
  
 _This day is going to suck already I just know it. The only thing that could make this worse would be if Dunhill busted through the door to monologue about a bunch of useless crap._  
  
There was a knock on the door, and not a split second later he heard someone holler, “Henry? Henry are you awake? I was gonna barge in but then I remembered that you said you liked your privacy in the morning, so I had to restrain myself! Get up, boy! I have some important news for ya!"  
  
“Shit."

  
  
Henry slipped outside once he was fully clothed. Dunhill and Neil were waiting for him. After spotting Neil, Henry stood there with his mouth agape as if he wanted to say something but just couldn’t.  
  
Finally, he managed to speak.  
  
“Dunhill, what the hell is he doing here?"  
  
Neil scoffed. “Good morning to you too, sunshine."  
  
“Aw, Henry! Don’t be like that! Neil here brought ya a fine cow. Free of charge, too!"  
  
“Think of it as a housewarming gift," Neil said as he stepped to the side so Henry could get a better look at the cow. “I don’t bake cookies, so this is the next best thing."  
  
Henry, although thankful, was still harboring some bitterness from his first encounter with Neil. He gave the other a wry smile. “Really? Because I bet you’d look cute in an apron."  
  
“Holy moly! You two haven’t been together no longer than five minutes and you’re already flirtin’!" Dunhill shook his head.   
  
The two younger men opted to ignore that comment.  
  
“Look, if you don’t want her, I’ll take her back. But if you plan on keeping her and raising her with love and care," and Neil stressed the ‘love and care’ bit, “you’ll need to name her. Can’t be a name that’s more than six letters long, though."  
  
“Who the hell came up with that rule?"  
  
“Not me, so just name the cow so I can leave. I hate socializing this early in the morning. Or at all."  
  
Henry pursed his lips in thought. “Neil.”  
  
The blond growled, “What do you want?”  
  
“No, that’s what I’m naming the cow.”  
  
Neil’s eyes widened for a split second before his brows furrowed and he scowled. “What the hell are you trying to say?”  
  
“Nothing at all. I think it’s a swell name. I want to give that name to my cow.”  
  
“Don’t play games with me.”  
  
“Neil! Here, girl!” Henry pat his thighs as he beckoned the oblivious bovine. “Come here Neil, old girl!”  
  
Neil sputtered, “She’s not a dog, you idiot!”  
  
“Neil the person, take Neil the cow to the barn for me.”  
  
“Like hell I am!”  
  
“Neil, stop being a baby and go on and take Cow Neil to the barn. Henry probably doesn’t know how to handle her just yet anyhow!” Grumbling, Neil stormed off for the barn with his bovine counterpart following behind. Dunhill turned to Henry and continued, “As a farmer you’re going to want to start planting crops. There’s a toolbox inside where Rachel left some farming tools and some seeds. But first you’ll need to make some fields. Here, take these blueprints.”

  
Dunhill handed Henry a little blue book filled with some blueprints for the most basic farm amenities and buildings.  
  
“Now, on the side of your house is your studio. Inside there you can plan out the layout of the town, look over blueprints, and construct things based on those blueprints. It’s simple enough. You’ll get the hang of it in no time!”  
  
“For the town’s sake, let’s hope so.”  
  
Just then Neil (the person) came back with all of his contempt and grumpiness. “Alright, she’s in the barn. You better take damn good care of her, Henry. Feed her and brush her and milk her every day. And it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give her treats, too. If anything happens to her, you’re going to regret it.”  
  
“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you. I mean, her.”  
  
Neil huffed and shoved his hands into his pockets before storming off. Dunhill said goodbye before he headed off too, leaving Henry alone to decide what to do next.  
  
He considered digging around in the toolbox, planting any leftover seeds that he could find, and then getting on his hands and knees and squeezing the rich fluid from Neil’s utters. Neil the cow, that was.  
  
But then a thought hit him like a rock falling down from the Elder Tree. A new passion stirred in his chest as he ran into the studio and got straight to work.  
  
***  
  
Allen and Yuri often spent their lunch breaks together. Because they work so closely, they’d grown near to each other over the years and were, as some might say, friends. And what better way to spend a lovely spring day than to have lunch outside of the restaurant with your friend?  
  
“I can never decide if I prefer the balsamic vinaigrette or the house dressing better,” Allen said as poked at his salad with a fork.  
  
“This herb soup… is so delicious…”  
  
“But then some days I want to have zesty Italian.”  
  
“So green… and warm…”  
  
“I don’t mind ranch, just that it’s much too thick for my preferences.”  
  
“Such wonderful smell….”  
  
“And don’t even get me started on how horrifyingly gross Thousand Island is.”  
  
Suddenly Yuri gasped.   
  
Allen stopped poking his salad and looked up. “What is it?”  
  
Yuri’s eyes were wide, fearful almost, and she muttered. “Behind you.”  
  
“Come again?”  
  
“ _It’s_  behind you.”  
  
Allen’s hand went limp and his fork dropped into his meal. “Oh, fuc—”  
  
Out of nowhere, a hand clutched his shoulder tightly and a dreadful, squeaky voice sang from behind him, “Allen~! Yuri~! Wow! It’s sooo nice to run into you two cuties on such a pretty Spring day!”  
  
“Hello, Michelle,” Allen answered flatly.  
  
“Michelle… hi.”  
  
The magician giggled and started rubbing Allen’s shoulder. “Oh wow, that foods looks so yummy. I’m kind of hungry myself if you know what I mean.” Her rubbing became more intrusive as her hand danced dangerously close to Allen’s neck and chest.  
  
This caused the stylist to clear his throat loudly. Michelle only smiled as she moved away and turned her back to them. She leaned forward and jut her backside out so her buns were propped up on the table. “Oh, yeah~ Just gotta stretch out a little bit! I was all cramped up in the Mystical Box of Wonder for my last act.”  
  
Allen scooted to the far right edge of his seat. “That’s nice, Michelle.”  
  
Michelle stood up straight and lifted her arm up into the air as she continued to “stretch.” Then she turned back around to face them, this time leaning forward and propping her elbows up onto the table. “Which one of you cutie pies wants to see my box of wonder? Allen, how about you?”  
  
“Actually, I’m starting to feel a little ill.”  
  
“Oh no! How about you, Yuri?”  
  
“Oh, I… ah, it’s been a busy day at work… need to get back soon.”  
  
“Okay!” Michelle popped back up again. “That’s totally fine. I’d be happy to show you two anytime you want, teehee~” She started to walk away—brushing her hand across Yuri’s shoulder as she did so—but stopped to turn around a final time. “Bye bye~!”  
  
And then she skipped off.  
  
There was silence between the Allen and Yuri as Allen began to angrily mix his salad while Yuri stared down into her soup.  
  
Seconds of awkward silence passed before Allen finally spoke up,  
  
“What a fucking floozy.”  
  
***  
  
Meanwhile Henry stepped out of the studio with a smile on his face, satisfied with his latest scheme. Being Town Coordinator didn’t seem so overwhelming anymore, and Henry had developed in just a short time some kind of hopefulness and optimism. This was a first, and especially surprising considering the dream that ruined his morning.  
  
But while he was working on his masterpiece in the studio, he realized something: He needed a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone he could share his experiences with, and express his thoughts to. Sure, the journal was nice but at the end of the day it was just a piece of paper. But what options did he have?   
  
Henry had decided to walk around the farm as he thought. Preferably, he wanted a peer; someone who was about the same age, about the same gender, and about the same in terms of life experiences. Echo Village did not have much to offer in the department of young, pleasant males. Neil was out of the question, Allen was terrifying, Rod was too happy, and Henry didn’t know what to make of Amir and Sanjay.  
  
He smiled sheepishly when he remembered the incident from the other day, when he first met Amir. He’d made an idiot of himself, but he was glad he’d gotten a chance to meet Amir. After all, it’s not often that a man comes across a piece of ass that fine. Henry wanted to get to know him better, that was for sure. And possibly get to the bottom of the mystery behind whether Sanjay was a butler or an escort.  
  
Finally, he decided to take a walk—in a casual and inconspicuous manner, of course—to the exotic mansion just to see if Amir was anywhere to be found.  
  
***  
  
 _That’s a very nice plant. Yeah. Cool bench. It’s so… gold, and stuff. This fountain is so… lavish. Oh, what the hell is wrong with me? I’m just standing here looking like a dumbass or a stalker or both._  
  
Henry’s inner struggle continued as he stared at the bottom of the fountain. There were a few coins lying there below the water and he wondered who’d thrown them in and what they’d wished for.  
  
“Yoohoo~! Henry!” A cheery voice called from behind him. He turned to spot Michelle waving as she walked up to him.  
  
 _Oh no. No no no no no no no._  
  
But before he could stop, she was right there in front of him. The magician laced her fingers together behind her back and smiled at him. “Did you work super hard today?”  
  
“You could say that.”  
  
“Good! Hey, this may sound like a totally weird question,” she laughed, “but have you ever put your sweet potato in someone’s donut hole? Or maybe, had someone put their sweet potato in your donut hole?”  
  
Henry stared at her. “Are you… are you asking me if I’ve ever had sex?”  
  
“Oh, gosh, Henry! So forward!” Then she whispered, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking.”  
  
Henry hesitated. “No, I have never done either of those things. Now was there something else that you wanted, or…?”  
  
Michelle’s eyes lit up and she smiled, though Henry had no idea why. “Oh, just one more thing!” Very quickly she shoved a handkerchief into Henry’s face. “Does this smell like chloroform?”   
  
Henry inhaled deeply. “No? Kind of smells like cotton candy.”  
  
Michelle stared at him for just a split second with a dumbfounded look on her face before she laughed nervously. “Wow, you’re good at this! I’m trying out a new perfume and wanted to see how many people would be able to tell what it was!”  
  
“Uh, cotton candy has a pretty recognizable scent.”  
  
“Heehee, you’re silly! Well, I’ll catch you later, alright?” Michelle spun on her heel and briskly walked off, muttering something about accidentally bringing the wrong handkerchief.  
  
Henry shook his head as if to shake off the uneasy feeling that whole encounter had given him. Then he noticed Amir walking back toward the mansion. Suddenly he felt stupid for just standing there staring at the fountain without any real reason—at least not one that Amir was aware of.  
  
“Oh, good afternoon, Henry,” Amir greeted softly. “You weren’t looking for me, were you?” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “Or maybe you were making a wish?”  
  
“Huh?” Right, the fountain. “Oh, I don’t believe in wishes.”  
  
Amir stood beside him and looked in through the water too. “A pessimist?”  
  
“A skeptic and a realist. Making a wish just sets you up for disappointment.”  
  
“Hm,” Amir hummed softly. “I suppose that is true. Though, having a wish granted must feel pretty good, I imagine.”  
  
“Yeah, probably.”  
  
Silence came over them. Henry didn’t know what was running through Amir’s mind, but his mind was screaming at him.   
  
 _Say something. No, don’t. You’re no good at socialization. But if you don’t say anything, you’ll regret it. And you’ll look stupid. You’re going to be haunted by this encounter for the rest of the day, and you won’t be able to stop thinking about all of the things you could have said to not look like an awkward idiot._  
  
Finally Amir spoke, and Henry was silently thankful, “Well, I do not want to take up your valuable time. I am sure you are a busy man. I was just about to head inside for a two hour lunch, anyhow.”  
  
“Two hours?” Henry practically gasped. “Why do you need to sit there and eat for two hours? Are we talking about a five-course meal or something’?”  
  
“Not at all. Sanjay will probably prepare a light soup.”  
  
“Wha—so you mean to tell me that eating one meal takes up two hours of your time?”  
  
“Yes, exactly.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“No idea!” Amir seemed to be a little perplexed too, though not a strongly as Henry. “Well, it was nice talking with you. I hope we run into each other again tomorrow. I have a feeling that you have some very interesting things to say.”  
  
“Uh, yeah. You too, Amir. I guess I’ll catch you around? Err, I mean, see you around.”  
  
Amir just smiled softly and waved goodbye before heading back into the mansion.  
  
Henry sighed.  
  
 _That was a disaster, but it could have been worse, I guess. No. It was a disaster. How the hell am I ever going to make friends? Maybe I should hang out with someone as socially defective as me. That Klaus guy seemed pretty cool._  
  
He turned to leave, but screamed when he noticed Emma watching him from behind a bush. The woman jumped out and dropped to the ground, then proceeded to army crawl past Henry. She shot him a look and whispered, “I ship it,” before she jumped up and rolled off the ledge, falling out of sight.  
  
***  
  
Very late that night and after Henry had carried out the “master plan” he’d sketched up in the studio, he began his journal with the written equivalent of nightblogging:  
  
 _I am the Town Coordinator.  
  
I am mad with power.  
  
I have just changed the entire layout of Echo Village.  
  
I have just shoved all of the freaks and bland characters into Echo Village West and moved all of the hotties closer to my farm.  
  
Don’t you understand, diary?  
  
I literally have the ability to lift up entire buildings and throw them down somewhere.  
  
I can determine the look of the town, and by doing so I can control the fate of every villager here.  
  
Their lives are in my hands, and I choose to destroy them if I so wanted to.  
  
I am a higher power… their savior, but also their oppressor.  
  
The Harvest Goddess doesn’t have shit on me.  
  
  
  
I need sleep._  
  
***  
  
The next morning, a frantic banging sound startled Henry awake.  
  
“Henry! Henry! It’s me, Dunhill! The villagers are all spazzing out! We woke up, stepped out of our houses, only to find that we weren’t in the same location we’d went to bed in! I know you’re Town Coordinator, but you need to give us a little’ warnin’ or something! Everyone’s all confused and upset! Henry? Henry?! I’m coming in, and I don’t care if you’re naked or not!”  
  
Henry just smiled.


	4. Hunt for the Perfect Bromance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry just wants some good, platonic man love.

After Henry calmly assured Dunhill that everything was alright and that people would soon grow accustomed to their new location, the older man settled down. In fact, he seemed a bit cheery.

"Henry, I got a real treat for you."

"Oh, boy. I can't wait to hear it."

"Tomorrow, I'm gonna properly introduce you to the ladies in Echo Village. Think of it as matchmaking!" It was at that moment that Henry felt his stomach drop. "Emma wanted to tag along, but I couldn't imagine why. She's got her stripin' business to do, after all. Anyway, wear something nice tomorrow. I'll be here to unnecessarily wake you up like I usually do."

Henry began slowly, still trying to get over the fact that Dunhill wanted to hook him up with someone, "Yuri refuses to sell me clothes. You know, because someone thought it would be a freakin' jolly idea to require me to bring her the materials she should already have."

Dunhill stroked his beard. "Well, you can always borrow a suit from Allen. He's a sharp dresser!"

Henry thought about that for a second. Something about the idea of Allen's clothes rubbing against his naked body made Henry feel strange. But he stopped himself, because he was coming dangerously close to liking the idea. "Uh, Dunhill... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm," he paused, "not interested in a relationship right now."

"Oh, nonsense! This is Harvest Moon! Everyone makes it a goal to get laid!"

"Well, I don't think everyone does, but-"

"Oh, I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeeep. You're..."

"I'm...?"

"You're shy."

Henry gave a soft sigh of relief. "Yeah, sure. I'm shy." Well, it wasn't far from the truth.

"That's why I'm gonna help you out, boy! Now, don't you worry about a thing. Dunhill knows what's best for you."

"Um... are you sure about that? Because I don't really see the basis on which that statement is coming from. I don't even really know you."

"But, see," Dunhill grabbed Henry's shoulder in a sort of affectionate gesture, "I knew you father. So by knowing your father, I know you."

"That's... no."

"In due time, Henry. In due time." Dunhill gave Henry's shoulder two good pats before walking off. He didn't stop when he hollered back, "Oh! And tell Neil I said hi!"

"Which one?"

"The cow, of course!"

Henry finished his farm work around ten, and waited impatiently on his farm until about 10:30 so he wouldn't get caught up in Neil's and Rod's opening cutscenes.

"Damn, that's annoying," he hissed as he walked out of his farm.

He had one goal that day: Interview all the bachelors. Why? Because he needed a friend, and everybody knows the best way to find your perfect bromance was through an unannounced interview. He even found it in him to give Allen and Neil a chance, even though both scared and aroused him in different ways.

Thanks to his masterful reworking of the town the night before, Henry could easily get to the all the bachelors in a single afternoon. He figured he would start with Neil first, then Rod, then Allen, then the Japanese guy who eat coins, and finally to Amir and Sanjay.

Balling his fists, Henry headed out to Neil's animal stall. He knew this was going to end either really well or really unwell, and he had to mentally prepare himself for it.

Whatever you do, don't get punched in the face. But at the same time, don't let him walk all over you. If he's having a bad day, restrain yourself. Wait, but isn't every day a bad day for him?

"Neil!" Henry called out when he was within shouting distance of the stall.

The fiery eyed blond turned his head very slowly to face Henry. It was almost mechanical, and Henry even shivered. "What the hell do you want?" Neil growled.

"I want to talk to you for a minute."

Neil's brows furrowed. "Can't you see that I'm busy working?"

"Neil, I'm the only farmer in the entire town. I am literally your only customer."

The blond thought about this for a few seconds. When he spoke, his tone was defeated but resistant, "Alright. What do you want?"

"To get to know you."

And with that, Henry noticed a sudden change in Neil's expression, as if that simple answer had completely shattered Neil's very core. His eyes were wide with surprise, and his mouth just kind of hung open for a few seconds.

But it went as quick as it had come, and Neil was right back to the indifferent scowl he wore so well.

"What for? I don't trust easily."

Henry shot back before he could stop himself, "Well, Neil, how am I supposed to trust a guy who puts toupees on his cows!"

Neil stared at Henry as if he'd just dropped a bomb. Henry stared back, quickly regretting his words and wondering if he was going to get kicked or not. But then Neil's expression softened, and he even frowned.

"Since you brought it up, I might as well tell you the story."

Henry lifted a brow. "The story?"

Neil began with a sigh, "About a year ago, my favorite cow, Amoolia, gave birth. But the calf wasn't normal. She had a small tuft of hair on her head. All the other cows would laugh at her and call her names, and I couldn't stand it. So I bought a bunch of toupees and just started putting them on all my other cows so Moogan-she was the calf-wouldn't feel like an outcast. But then I couldn't just stop putting toupees on them because then the ones without a toupee would be the outcasts! So I just had to keep doing it." Neil concluded with an intense, bold voice, "That's why my cows have toupees, Henry. That's why."

Henry couldn't believe what he was hearing. But the end of the story, he didn't know if he was disturbed at the whole thing-especially that Neil claimed he had laughing cows-or if he wanted to laugh at the fact that Neil named his cows Amoolia and Moogan.

"Okay, so what else did you want to know?" Neil growled when Henry didn't say anything.

"Oh," Henry snapped out of his daze. "Um, how good are you at listening to other people's problems?"

"I have too many of my own to worry about anyone else's."

"Understandable." Then Henry asked the next question as if he were going down a list. "What kind of music do you like?"

"My iPod consists of Linkin Park-not their wussy new albums! The old stuff. The hardcore stuff. My favorite song is Let the Bodies Hit the Floor. It's not by them, though."

"Oooookay. How do you feel about gay rights?"

"What?"

Henry shook his head, "Sorry, wrong question. Uh, do you drink a lot?"

"I drink when I need to."

"Fair enough. Are you the kind of guy who would be okay with having a casual one-night stand with someone? Maybe a few one-night stands with the same person? Totally casual, of course."

"Are you purposefully throwing in weird ass questions in-between normal questions?" Neil growled as he shot Henry a glare.

"Not at all. Not at all. Well, thank you for your time, Neil."

"Tch. I don't mind entertaining idiots from time to time."

"Mnnnhmm. Okay, now, you get back to work. Make daddy proud." Henry gave Neil a few reassuring shoulder pats before walking over to Rod.

"My dad is dead, you insensitive asshole."

But Henry was already standing by Rod and engaging in conversation.

"Hiya, Henry! I kinda overheard you talking to Neil. Do you get to ask me cool questions now, too?"

"Yes, Rod."

"Oh, boy! I don't have a cute cow story to tell you, but one time, I got trampled by a horse." He didn't even stop smiling.

"That's... nice. I mean, I'm sorry to hear that. But you're okay now so it must not have been too bad, right?"

"Oh, it hurt like crazy! I broke a few ribs and my skull got kinda fractured."

"That would explain a lot."

"I was in the hospital for weeks, but they had really good food. The juice came in these really cool squeezey pouches."

Henry then made up his mind: Rod was too cheerful to be considered best friend material. Even if the guy was a sweetie, Henry could only tolerate happiness for so long. "Uh, Rod... I gotta go-"

"Hey, did you wanna buy something? I have the cutest pets for miles!"

"...Do you have cats?"

"You bet!"

Henry didn't waste a second to think it over. "How much do you want for one?"

"Welcome to Allen's Salon," the stylist greeted from behind the counter. He stopped abruptly when he noticed that Henry had just walked in with a cat on his head. "You realize you're wearing a feline as a hat, right? Though, I have to say, it does look a little better than the thrifty cap you usually wear."

"This is Winston," Henry informed as he walked up to the counter. "And if you don't allow cats, then I'm sorry. Actually, no I'm not." This made Allen scoff, amused. "You got a minute?"

"That depends."

"I just want to talk, ask some questions, maybe get my brows trimmed."

Allen's eyes shot up to above Henry's. "Oh, they're barely noticeable."

"I'm self-conscious, okay? Anyway, I want you to tell me about yourself. I imagine you're the kind of person who loves talking about himself."

Allen grinned smugly. "I am, but you're not going to get such precious information out of me so easily."

"Uh..."

Allen rested his forearms on the counter and leaned forward. "If you ask in the cutest way possible, I may tell you a little bit about myself."

"Oh, you've got to be shitting me."

"That wasn't very cute."

"You're a creep sometimes. I barely know you and I'm saying that."

"Still not impressed~"

"I am going to shove my fist up your ass."

Allen's brows lifted. "Getting a little ahead of ourselves, are we?" Then he hummed in thought. "Well, you could tell me something about yourself. Give, and then receive in return. That is, if I find your story interesting enough."

"Oh, would you just stop with your self-assuring superiority bullshit-" Henry stopped, knowing it was useless. He gave a defeated sigh. "Okay. I'm 21 years old, I've only been in one relationship, the world disappoints me on a daily basis, my family hates me, and I gave up half my hopes and dreams by the time I entered college. I'm kind of like the girl from that Bowling For Soup song."

Allen frowned and adopted a sympathetic look. "Honey, you have problems."

"I know."

The stylist took Henry's hands in his own and spoke in a soft voice. "But it's okay. I'm going to help you."

"Y-You are...?"

"Yes. First, by giving you a trim."

"But I don't need-"

"Shhhhh," the stylist cooed as he walked Henry over to the sink.

And so Allen began washing and shampooing Henry's hair. The hot stream of water made Henry's whole body felt warm and fuzzy, and Allen's gentle massaging felt good. Really good. A little too good. Soon, Henry began to feel a familiar tightness in his overalls.

The stylist noticed this and grinned. "Is that a pen in your pocket, or do you really like Herbal Essence?"

"Nope. It's just my penis."

Properly beautified, Henry left the salon with Winston in his arms and Allen waving goodbye.

You know what? He's not such a bad guy after all. I should get haircuts more often.

Next on his hit list was that weird guy in the dress, or yukata, or whatever it was called. And something was telling Henry that he was somewhere near the river. This wasn't the first supernatural phenomenon that Henry had; often times he'd just know where everyone was, without any real explanation as to why. It was almost as if there was an invisible map that pinpointed everyone's exact location.

Anyway, Henry and Winston headed for the river.

When they arrived, Henry noticed a man somewhat writhing on the ground, moaning in pain. Oh, that was the guy Henry was looking for. His effeminately colored dress-thing was indistinguishable.

Henry approached him. "Hey, man, are you okay? Damn, what's it with people passing out near this river? Is there something in the water that I should worry about?"

The man groaned, "Where am I...?"

"Echo Village. Is everything alright?"

"Urgh..."

"Okay, then. You sound a little drunk, to be honest. Do people normally get drunk in the middle of the day around here?"

"Drunk? No, no...! I had too much to eat, that's all... Did I break a hip...? God, I hope I didn't break a hip."

"Are your hips especially sensitive or something?"

"When you're an old geezer like me..."

Henry lifted a brow. "You can't be that old. What, are you thirty-five? Forty? If it makes you feel better, you pull it off well."

The man only groaned and attempted to stand, but he stumbled when he tried to take a step. Luckily, Henry was there to catch him before he hit the ground around. "Whoa, easy, there! Hey, I never got your name. I saw you the other day but we never really got introduced because you were being weird and eating money."

There was a pause before the man answered in a dazed voice, "I'm... I'm Haruhi Suzumiya."

"Okaaay, Haruhi. We need to get you to the clinic."

"Carry me on your back..." The man who was definitely not Haruhi Suzumiya suggested.

"What? There's no way I can carry you all the way to the clinic like that. It's a good half mile walk, if not more." But then Henry looked at the drunken, pathetic man and sighed. "Alright, come on." And so he hoisted him up and began the arduous march to the clinic.

"Drunk. Definitely drunk," Klaus concluded.

"So you're telling me his name is Soseki? And that it's not Haruhi Suzumiya?"

"Precisely. I haven't the faintest idea what a 'Haruhi' is, but his mind was certainly clouded in a drunken haze. He's resting now, and should be fine by the morning. It looks like your cat is currently enjoying sitting on his face. Are you the missus?"

"Excuse me?"

"Pardon me. I was just curious. Anyhow, you serve no further purpose here so I'll have to ask you to leave."

Henry was about to listen to the strict doctor, when he suddenly stopped before he walked out of the door. "Wait, Klaus, I want you to tell me about yourself. Just a quick and easy summery of you as a person."

Henry figured he might as well give Klaus a chance. Although he had a stick up his ass, Klaus didn't seem like too bad of a person.

The doctor pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "I do not care for idle chit-chat."

"This is for business purposes only. I'm looking to recommend a doctor to my friend."

"Oh. Well, if that is the case... I will not talk about myself."

"Wait, what?"

"Rather, I feel the need to talk about macaroni."

"Um."

"Firstly, why does it have a hole? What was the purpose of this design? Is the hole necessary? Does it serve any function? This bothers me a great deal. In fact, I spend many sleepless nights thinking about the hole in macaroni. It consumes my thoughts. When I am on the job, macaroni holes always enter my mind. And believe me, I have done extensive research on this. I first considered the boiling time and whether the hole reduces the time needed to boil the pasta. I quickly proved this fact. Then I began thinking about how it feels to eat the macaroni. When I bite into a macaroni, it is soft. And when I chew the macaroni, I imagine that I am a ravenous carnivore, perhaps a honey badger, tearing through the soft pasta. Sometimes I imagine the macaroni are people, and that as my teeth cut through one, I am tearing through flesh and bone. I hear the macaroni cry out in pain, sometimes."

"Klaus," Henry interrupted. "Klaus, Klaus. This isn't going to work out."

On his way out of the clinic, Henry heard a voice call out to him. "Henry~! Henry~!"

It was the all too familiar voice of Michelle. Henry was beginning to anticipate the time she'd find him. It was a daily occurrence. And Henry stood there, frozen, waiting for her to catch up to him so she could-no doubt-make him incredibly uncomfortable.

"Henry~ would you like to help me do a magic trick?"

He turned to her and noticed she had lugged over a magician's box. "Uh, I'm a little busy..."

She opened the box. "It'll just take a few seconds! Just climb into my ~magical box~ and I'll make you disappear, oooh!" Michelle waved her wand around in front of the open box for an added effect.

"It doesn't work like that, does it? Isn't there usually a trick door involved or something? You can't just make someone disappear in the middle of the road."

"Chris Angel could," she muttered. "Ahahaha, but that's besides the point! Pleeease, Henry? I'll give you something special if you do it~"

"Yeah, no."

Michelle's eyes narrowed and her voice was dangerously low as she growled, "Alright. We're going to have to do this the hard way."

Before Henry could react, Winston leaped from his arms and, with a blood curdling cry, latched onto Michelle's face. The magician screamed and began flailing as she tried to pry the ravenous feline off.

"Winston!" Henry cried. "Winston, what the hell are you doing?!"

Michelle screamed hysterically, "His claws are piercing through, like, all seven layers of my skin! They're like deadly little hooks on the sides of my face!"

Henry tried to help her. "Hold still!"

"IT HURTS SO BAD!"

"Winston!"

"So your kitten attacked Michelle? That is rather unfortunate."

"Is Miss Michelle alright, though?"

After that cat attack fiasco, Michelle stumbled off to the clinic and Henry went off-while carefully restraining Winston in his arms-to find Amir and Sanjay. Now the three of them were having tea at the garden table in the mansion plaza. These would be his final two "interviews."

"Yeah, Klaus said there shouldn't be too many permanent scars."

He could almost hear Amir and Sanjay gasp, and Amir adopted a concerned look. "Too many? But that means there will be some at all, doesn't there?"

"Yeeeah. Winston is sorry."

The kitten hissed.

"Fake it, Winston," Henry hissed. "Fake it." He shook his head. "Anyway, I was just wondering if there was anything important I should know as a new farmer and Town Coordinator. You know, things that I should really have been told beforehand but would probably need to look up in an Internet guide after it's already too late?"

Amir looked up in thought as Sanjay answered, "Miss Rachel visited the mines often. There are many important minerals and ores to be found. But, you may only mine a certain number of times per day."

"What? Why?"

Amir chimed in. "Because the ones who developed this world hate you, I suspect."

Sanjay nodded and added, "And they want you to hate yourself, too."

"Is that why they created characters like Michelle and Klaus?"

Amir nodded. "Yes, I believe so."

"Oh, hey, uh..." Henry's voice dropped off awkwardly as he struggled with how to formulate the question. "Sanjay, you don't happen to be Amir's butler or anything, right?"

"That would be right. It is my royal duty to serve him."

"Ohhh, haha!" Henry laughed nervously. "Because when Dunhill was telling me about you two, I wasn't sure if he said butler, or... uh, brother. Yeah."

"Well, Master Amir is very dear to me. I cherish him like family."

Amir's cheeks went red. He turned to gaze affectionately into Sanjay's eyes as Sanjay gazed affectionately into his. Slow jazz music began to play in the background. "Sanjay," he started softly. "I cherish you, too."

"Hearing you say that means everything to me, Master Amir."

Henry watched them in disbelief.

They're screwing each other. They're definitely screwing each other.

Dear diary,

I think I actually made friends with Allen today. He's not that bad of a guy after all. I mean, he's still a bitch, but he can wash hair like nobody's business.

I'm starting to think differently about Neil. I was really touched when he told me that cow story. I think that deep inside, he's a softie.

I am 100% done with Klaus that whole rant was weird as hell.

Finally figured out that Sanjay is not Amir's escort, though quite possibly they're into each other. They kind of had a really gay moment while we were having tea. That's not so bad though, right? I barely knew Amir, anyway. There's plenty of fish in the sea, right?

Speaking off... Dunhill is going to play matchmaker tomorrow. In all honesty, I think I like Yuri the best. She's mellow, and kind of looks like a guy.

I still can't believe Soseki's name isn't Haruhi Suzumiya.

My final thoughts about today? Well, I guess the lesson to be learned is that maybe things aren't as bad as I thought they were. Just maybe.

I'm almost afraid to sleep. Michelle could be lurking in the dark corners of my house. I wouldn't put it past her. But Winston is sleeping right beside me, so I guess I'll be safe. Still, I think I might have a nightmare about being trapped in a dark room filled with Michelle blowup dolls. One of them might touch my butt. If I wake up crying, this will be the reason why.

Well, goodnight diary.


	5. A Girl Who's Wet and Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle is terrifying.

In the darkness of the bedroom, Allen carefully undid Henry button up to expose the blushing boy's chest, not yet chiseled by labor but smooth and firm with muscle. The farmer uttered a small groan as the stylist's quick hands slid around to the hem of his slacks and pulled Henry's belt off. Henry felt his stomach tighten when Allen slowly, teasingly, tugged the pants down. He inhaled sharply with anticipation for what was to come next.

"Jesus, Allen," Henry groaned. "Do you really have to do this? I can undress myself, you know."

"Not when you're wearing one of my suits, you can't. Now, hold still. This color looks terrible on you, so we're going to try another one."

\- Earlier That Morning -

Not even two seconds after the alarm clock began buzzing, Henry sprang up. He wasted no time at all and, in fact, had slept with clothes on the night before. Hastily slipping his boots on, he bolted out of the door.

He made a dash for Allen's house through the darkness of the early morning. It was 5:30AM, just a half-hour before the crack of dawn. Just a half-hour before Dunhill would bang on Henry's door to get him and drag him off to do something ridiculous around town. More specifically, to meet the village's young, single women.

At the Salon, Henry started knocking as he caught his breath. He didn't want to be too loud, but he didn't want to taste too much time standing there and waiting for Allen, either. So he resorted to throwing a few rocks at Allen's window, and then to trying to find an open window. Finally, the door opened, and there was Allen in a fancy looking robe and silk pajama bottoms.

Allen looked partially dead; it was now very clear to Henry that the stylist was not a morning person. There were dark circles, his eyes looked colder and more heartless than usual, and he had a sluggish, lazy posture.

"Holy shit, Allen. You look like hell. How long have you been up?"

"I just woke up, thanks to you," he hissed.

Henry's gaze floated up, and then widened as he stared at Allen's head. "Your hair."

Allen raised a brow. "My hair?"

"It's beautiful. Perfect. Flawless." True enough, not a single strand was out of place. It was styled with as much care and perfection as per usual. "That can't be possible. You... you just woke up. Nobody's hair is that perfect when they get out of bed.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Henry." Then he paused. "Oh, that as a lie. I love flattery. Go on, praise me to your heart's content."

It was convenient how a few compliments could lift the mood of an incredibly vain stylist. After a minute or so, Henry was able to explain himself as he was led upstairs.

"So, Dunhill wanted me to wear something 'nice' for today but I don't have shit, and then I remembered he said you could probably lend me something to wear-because you have such an impeccable sense of fashion-so I figured I needed to make it here before he came barging into my house."

Allen listened, nodding here and there. "Well, Dunhill made quite an assumption when he thought I would let you borrow a suit... but he was right. I'll take pity on your poor, underdressed soul just this once. Okay?"

Henry fought back the urge to retort, and instead balled his fists. "Oh, you're too kind."

"Now, give me a moment while I dress. In the meantime, get naked-partially naked."

"I can do that."

So as Allen put his clothes on, Henry took his clothes off. Then the stylist carefully looked through his wardrobes (and dressers and closet) for the perfect suit, pulling out a dark brown one.

"I take great care of my outfits, and only I know the exact best way to put them on and take them off. Therefore, I'm going to have to assist you in trying them on."

"But-"

"No fussing! Now, get over here and let me work my magic."

\- Present Time -

The next suit was a rich, navy blue color. Henry stood in front of the mirror as Allen slowly walked circles around him, examining him very carefully.

"Yes!" The stylist shouted finally, startling Henry. "It's perfect."

Henry jumped, but then smiled with relief. "Heeeey, alright. So, I'll swing by later tonight to return the suit. How's that sound?"

"Perfect."

They headed back downstairs and Allen showed Henry to the door.

"Oh, Henry, before you go..."

The farmer stopped and turned back. "Yeah?"

"Tomorrow a few us young people are getting together to play cards, get drunk, and gossip about everyone who isn't there. You're welcome to join us."

Normally, Henry would say no. Because normally, Henry hated social gatherings and having fun. But nothing about Echo Village was normal, and it was certainly rubbing off on the farmer.

"Sure. Where's it at?"

"We usually get a spare room at the Inn. Seven o' clock."

"I'll be there."

"Fabulous. Now, go on. You have an old man to deal with and some young ladies to impress. But, Henry..." The stylist's eyes narrowed. "If I find a single mark on that suit-a single tear or scratch or rip-I will kill you."

***

And Henry had no reason to think that Allen wasn't completely serious about that threat.

Michelle stepped down the creaky stairs. There were no cobwebs this time, but a thin layer of frost lined the steps and railing. To say it was chilly in the basement would be an understatement. It was freezing. Literally; the temperature was just at 32 degrees Fahrenheit.

The magician shivered the whole way down. "M-Master Sandra... do you have to keep it so c-c-cold in here...?"

The dark hooded figure at the other end of the room, with its back turned to Michelle, hissed, "I cannot let Mr. Sprinkles melt again, you fool."

"Mr. Sprink-right, the ice cream cone you keep on your head. Gotcha."

"Enough! All I want to know is if you brought me the virgin."

"Abooooout that..."

"Michelle..."

"It looks like my virgin capturing skills are a bit rusty."

A chilling wind blasted Michelle and she gasped at the biting cold. "M-Master, please! My nipples are already rock hard and I can't feel my hands!"

"You fool! My mortal body is growing weak and you dare fail your mission?! Without me, you cannot possibly hope to attain ultimate power!"

"I'm trying my best!"

"Try harder."

"Well, I can't tonight!"

"What? Why!"

"I have a bachelor party to entertain for. I'm doing the 'seemingly innocent magical girl with a wild side' routine."

"Curses!" Sandra jabbed the ground with her malevolent scepter in anger. "Curses, curses, curses!"

"Calm your saggy tits, would ya?"

"There is only one thing left to do!"

"What is it, Master?"

Sandra said nothing. Instead, the hooded harbinger of doom spun around before throwing her head back and cackling diabolically. Suddenly, wind started picking up again. Icicles began to crack and fall from the wooden board above, and Michelle yelped as she jumped here and there to avoid frosty impalement. As Sandra's blood curdling screeches continued, the magician bolted up the stairs as quickly as she could, never looking back. She didn't know what Sandra had planned, nor did she care to find out. She only knew that it must be truly terrifying.

***

"So, what kind of things do you like?"

Felicity was a nice girl. She had a slight Southern accent, a pleasant demeanor, and there wasn't really much to complain about. But that didn't mean Henry was interested.

She was the first girl that Dunhill brought him to. The old man made small talk with Clement while Henry was left to chat Felicity up at one of the tables. At first, and even then, he wasn't sure how he was going to react to her or what he'd tell her. He was being judged on his qualities by her just as much as she was being judged by him, and he could leave whatever impression he wanted.

But what sort of impression did he want to leave? At the very least, one that these women would hopefully find undesirable; it was easier to turn someone off than it was to turn someone down.

"Uh, you know. Bestiality, Satanism, arson, hard drugs. What about you?"

Felicity looked down, frowning at the table. "I like food."

"Cool, so do I. Do you prefer your human infants boiled or grilled?"

The blonde grimaced as if she were going to vomit. "I..." She waved a hand and stood up, dismissing herself. "You know what? I need to get back to work... i-it was nice talking with you, Henry."

"So, how did it go?" Dunhill asked excitedly as they left the restaurant. "She seemed a little shaken up back there!"

"Oh, I'm sure it was just because she was intimidated by how good I look in Allen's clothes."

"You know," Dunhill started, "you're right. You do look good. If I were a young lady, I'd jump ya, pin ya to the ground, and ride ya like a bull-right here and now."

Henry laughed nervously, and carefully widened the distance between them as they continued walking.

Just as Dunhill began to ramble on about pointless things that Henry cared nothing for, he stopped because he noticed someone across the road. "Iroha!" He called as he waved her over. "You got a minute?"

The gentle natured woman walked up to them and gave the gentlemen a light bow. "Hello, Dunhill. Hello, Henry."

Dunhill seemed quick to let them be alone. "Welp, why don't you young'uns have a nice chat while I take a reeeeally long piss in that bush over there." And he winked at Henry just to make extra sure that the farmer understood the ploy.

"Enjoy yourself, Dunhill," Henry told him as the old man walked off to the nearest bush and took his post behind it. Dunhill even unzipped his old, worn jeans to appear more convincing. Then Henry turned to Iroha with a pleasant smile. "So, drowned any helpless forest animals lately? Because I sure have."

***

"Ta-dah!" With a turn of the wrist, a beautiful tulip appeared in Michelle's hand. She held the flower out for Henry. "For you."

Cautiously, he accepted. "Uh. Thank you, I think."

"That was amazing, Michelle!" Dunhill exclaimed. "What other tricks do you have?"

While the meetings with Felicity and Iroha had been unsuccessful-or very successful, depending on your point of view-the meeting with Michelle had not yet been sabotaged. Henry didn't think there was much he could say that would drive this woman away. He wasn't even sure if the cannibalistic serial killer ploy would work on her.

"Yep! As a matter of fact..." Michelle shuffled over to one her trunks and pulled out a small, thin cloth. She walked over to Henry and held it out in front of him a few inches, below his waistline. The two men watched; Dunhill in anticipation and Henry in concern. "1... 2..." The magician began as she waggled the cloth around. "3..!" When she yanked the "veil" away, Henry's pants had disappeared.

The farmer yelped, "Holy shit!"

Dunhill's eyes were wide and mesmerized. "Whoa! Michelle, that's incredible!"

Michelle giggled and cocked her head to the side, examining the farmer (but importantly, the bulge between his thighs). "Nice briefs, Henry."

"Michelle, why don't you show Henry some more magic?" Dunhill encouraged. After Henry had failed to impress Felicity and Iroha, Dunhill promised the farmer he'd play a bigger role in the matchmaking process.

"I can make your underwear disappear too."

"That's a great idea, Michelle!"

"No!" Henry cried. "No, that won't be necessary."

Michelle just smiled. "Your loss~"

"Maybe Michelle can make her pants disappear too!" Dunhill suggested.

"No!" Henry screamed. "Nobody is getting anymore naked than they already are!"

Dunhill's head dropped. "D'aw... what a shame."

"Oh, Dunhill~ You two are so funny! Why don't you both stay for a while? We can a nice little chat."

The tone of Michelle's voice suggested sexuality, and Dunhill was quite pleased with himself for the success of this meeting. He'd done Henry good, or so he thought. Henry, on the other hand, was panicking. He needed to act quickly and scare off Michelle, but thinking on your feet wasn't easy when your lower half was partially exposed and a pink haired psychopath was staring at your meat pistol.

"I think tonight is a great night for a séance."

By then, Michelle was pouring tea for them. At Henry's comment, she stopped. For a moment, there was a very unvexed look on her face, but it lasted only a second. Shortly after, she was smiling again as she walked over to the table and set the cups down. "Oh, you think so too?"

Henry cleared his throat nervously and Michelle urged him to sit with her. Sliding into a chair and staring down into the cup, he wondered if he should drink it or not. Michelle's strange behavior warranted extra caution.

"I know what this is about, Henry."

The farmer jumped a little and looked up. Michelle was leaning forward in her seat, elbows propped up on the table, and she had this look in her narrowed eyes; it was a look of control, and it was both inviting and threatening.

"Yeah?"

"Everyone wants you to get a girl, fall in love, get married, have a child that may not look anything like you." Her voice was soft; low, even. "But that's not what you want, is it?"

"Uh, no... no, it's not."

Henry felt her warm, soft hand slide over his and squeeze gently. Her voice was shifted again, and she purred sensually, "I know what you really want, though."

Henry felt his cheeks go hot. "You do?"

"You want..." she paused. "Someone who is up for some crazy hot sex. A girl who's wet and wild and not afraid to take it from the front, the back, even the ear. You want orgies and swingers and BDSM."

Henry stared at her with wide eyes and a hanging jaw. The more she talked, the more and more disturbed he was becoming. Now he was truly panicking. He pulled his hand away from her looked to Dunhill, silently pleading with him.

Dunhill's eyes just darted between the two of them, and he gave Henry an expectant look. "Well, are you gonna let her ride ya like a bull or not?"

Suddenly the door opened and the familiar voice of the stoic tailor called out for Michelle.

The magician jumped up. "Oh, Yuri!" She happily hopped over to the door and greeted her best friend with a gleeful hug. "Come in, come in! We were just having a little chat."

"Hooray, threesome!" Dunhill cheered.

Yuri seemed leery. "Oh, that's nice..."

Michelle just laughed it off. She laced arms with the tailor and walked her over to the kitchen table. "Care to join us?"

"Yes, thank you..." Then she turned to the farmer. "Hello, Henr-" she cut herself short. "You're not wearing pants..."

"Oh, silly me!" Michelle sang. "I forgot to give them back, hehe!" With the wave of her hand, Henry's-Allen's, rather-slacks appeared in her arms. Henry carefully took them from her and slipped them back on.

Yuri's brows lifted. "Why are you wearing... Allen's clothes...?"

"Oh, uh..." Henry fiddled with the slacks as he tried to hook the button. "He let me borrow this suit for today."

Michelle chimed, "Henry's been womanizing all day today!"

"Ahaha, well..." Finally he got the pesky button. "It was Dunhill's idea, really. He wanted me to think seriously about my future, relationship wise."

"Damn right, I did!" Dunhill chimed in with pride. "Besides, I'd feel sorry for you, Henry, if I knew you weren't getting laid."

"Hmm..." Yuri walked over to Henry and started straightening up his tie for him.

"Oh, um. Okay... Thank you?"

"It was crooked... I was just doing my job."

"You're taking good care of Allen's clothes, aren't you?" Michelle asked.

"I've been trying to, yeah."

She continued, "Allen is very particular about his clothes."

"Especially his suits..." Yuri added.

Michelle narrowed her eyes-almost devilishly-as she grinned. "Allen can be a very scarey man, Henry. I heard he once killed someone using a pot of boiling hot coffee and a single bitch slap."

"Holy balls'a fire!" Dunhill gasped.

"That was just a rumor... It was never confirmed..."

"I believe it," Henry said.

"Oh! It's later than I thought!" Michelle cried out. "Sorry to cut this lovely meeting short, but I have a performance to do in the city. I'll see you sweet things tomorrow, alright?"

When Michelle headed out, Henry, Yuri, and Dunhill were left to awkward silence.

I need to know. It's been eating me up since day one. And if she is a lesbian, it's not like it matters. It would be perfectly okay. Right, so, I'm gonna ask. I'm gonna ask her right now and then I'm not going to make anything more of it.

"Hey, Dunhill? Could you give Yuri and me some space? I wanted to ask her about... Downs." Henry added the emphasis and winked to feign ulterior intentions.

"Oooh..." Dunhill nodded knowingly. "Well, if you two will excuse me..." And he slipped through the door, trying desperately to contain a grin.

Henry allowed a few seconds of silence before he started the conversation. "Hey, Yuri, ever had a boyfriend before?"

She looked over at him and nothing about her calm and indifferent expression had changed. "No... I haven't."

"Oh. Well, uh, neither have I."

"Oh... I see..."

"But I just love... boobs."

"Oh."

"And vagi... vag... gi..."

"Um..."

"Ahaha, you know what I'm talking about, right? I just... love that thing.. So much."

Yuri cleared her throat.

"How about you?"

"I beg your pardon...?"

"You like, uh, all of that stuff too?"

"Henry, this is getting really weird..."

"Yeah, you're right. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing." Feeling like an awkward idiot, Henry turned on his heel and bolted for the door without ever looking back.

***

It was nearly half past six. After a pointless and excessive cut scene, Neil and Rod had packed their carts and were heading out to drop off their merch in the designated safe house. As they walked past the river area, Neil noticed a strange bag in Rod's cart.

"Rod," he grunted. "What's that?"

The animal lover looked back. "Huh?

"What the hell is that? It looks like somebody chopped up a bunch of grass and shat a rainbow all over it."

Sure enough, there was a small plastic bag in Rod's cart that contained a lump of little chopped up grasses in every color of the rainbow. Rod just chuckled at Neil's curiosity.

"That's Crass."

The tsundere leaned forward and raised a brow as if he hadn't heard it right. "Crass?"

"Yeah." Rod continued in more of a hushed voice, "Apparently it's the hottest drug on the market now! I figure if we could start selling it... we'll be rich!"

Neil shoved his hands into his pockets. "I dunno, Rod. I was fine with the black market, but the drug industry is a whole 'nother animal. I don't know if we should get into all that messed up shit. Drugs tend to make things... complicated. Who the hell did you get this stuff from, anyway?"

"A guy in Forget-Me-Not Valley."

"Forget-Me-Not Valley!"

"Shh! We need to keep this on the down low, Neil. Anyway, he goes by the codename 'Poseidon.'"

"Poseidon...? I have a bad feeling about this, Rod."

"That's the same thing you said when I tried to teach the horses how to play water polo."

"Rod, seven people died in that process."

"But now our horses can play water polo, so it's kind of a win-win if you ask me!"

***

"How did it go?"

"I'm an ass, Dunhill. I just made a complete ass of myself to the only girl who I might even be remotely attracted to."

"Whoa, slow down there, kiddo! I can barely understand what you're sayin'! Now, pull yourself together because we've still got to go see Tina."

Henry straightened his back standing tall and defiant. "Dunhill, I'm not interested in a relationship right now. These girls are nice. Some of them are pretty. One of them terrifies me. But I'm looking for someone with a little more testosterone."

"Well, if it's testosterone you want, Yuri is single and ready to mingle!"

"I'd much rather just focus on my farm for the time being... get my life a little more put together before I worry about a relationship."

Dunhill was quiet for a moment. He didn't look angry, didn't look shocked, didn't look disappointed. It comforted Henry in a way. "Well, even though you're going against one of the cardinal rules of all Harvest Moon games, I'm gonna respect that, Henry. That's right... You're a strong, independent farmer and you don't need no woman right now." Dunhill gave Henry's shoulder a good squeeze and a light shake. "You go do what makes you happy, kiddo."

"Thank you, Dunhill."

"Because the more you focus on your farm, the more young girls there are for me." Dunhill winked.

Suddenly Henry's stomach started to turn and he felt unusually sick as Dunhill headed back home.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Why did he have to tell me that. Oh, God. I'm never going to be able to sleep again. How many girls is he banging? Michelle? Definitely Michelle... Felicity too? Tina? Oh, God..."

Just then a very chilling breeze swept past Henry and he shivered, hugging himself. Quickly, as a sense of fear and panic came over him, he scanned the area. It was plenty dark, and there weren't but just a few street lights, though none of them very close to where Henry was standing. The trees rustled eerily in the cool Spring air, but there was no signs of life and the night was dead and silent. Well, almost...

"Psst..." A voice hissed from behind Henry. He spun around, only to yelp at the hooded figure that was almost breathing down his neck.

"Wh-who the hell..?"

Without a word, the old woman, face hidden by the hood of her cloak, pulled a shiny green apple from her sleeve and held it up to the taller young man. "How would you like a bite of this delicious apple, little boy?" Her raspy voice coaxed.

"Lady, I'm 21."

"It looks delicious doesn't it?"

"A little?"

"Come on. Eat it. Take just one bite."

"Do I know you? I've been told not to accept food from strangers. Last time I did that, I ended up-"

"Eat it!"

Her sudden aggression startled the farmer. He took a step back. "No, thanks..."

Sandra brought her hand behind her back and began to conjure up a ball of fire in her palm, unbeknownst to Henry. "Oh, but I insist..."

"Yeah, um, you're sort of freaking me out so I'm just going to turn around and run back home to lock my windows and door."

"You cannot escape me, you fool!" Just as Sandra was going to unleash hellfire on the scared and clueless, farmer, the snappy voice of Echo Village's favorite stylist ruined the moment.

"Henry!" Allen had found them-somehow-and made his way over. "So, I've found you at last. I was getting worried that you'd ran back home with my suit."

A wave of relief washed over the farmer and he laughed nervously. "Oh, no... I would never." Michelle's comment about Allen slapping a man to death flashed in his mind.

"Curses!" Sandra hissed, plans foiled thanks to Allen.

The stylist just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Sandra, should someone your age really be out this late? Go on home before you fall and break your hip."

"You little rat! How dare you mock me!"

Allen put a hand on his hip and kicked the sass up a notch. "How dare you walk out in public wearing that rag."

"Rag? It's a cloak, you imbecile!"

"Yeah, okay, Sith Lord."

Sandra began to hiss and grumble profanities and strange gibberish, and Allen linked arms with Henry while completely ignoring her. "Let's head back to the Salon, shall we?"

***

Allen tugged on Henry's tie before slowly sliding it off, a coy smirk on his lips. He stepped forward, and Henry stepped backward. But the stylist didn't stop, and Henry found himself taking more steps back as Allen unfastened the first few buttons of his dress shirt. The farmer felt his face and neck grow hot, and the familiar tightness in his stomach returned. But he didn't say anything, and neither did Allen. Not until Henry felt his calves bump up against the mattress behind him, and the stylist push him onto the bed before crawling over him.

"W-Wait! This is just the fifth chapter! It's too early to have a gay sex scene!"

This only made Allen grin. "Honey, it's never a bad time for gay sex."

Henry thought about that for a few seconds before realizing that Allen was right.

And so he surrendered his body, and prostate, to the narcissistic stylist as they gave in to their lustful desires and made hot love to each other for hours on that steamy, mid-spring night.

Down below, Emma listened to their sounds of erotic pleasure from outside the Salon. She folded her arms and smiled to herself, and as the two impulsive young men ravaged each other, a sense of accomplishment washed over her.

"Just like in my fanfics. Just like in my fanfics."


	6. 2Spooky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't go in the basement.

When Henry's eyelids slowly lifted, he watched the dust circling in the ray of light pouring in through the window. The bed felt unusually comfortable, and the room was unusually well decorated. He frowned in confusion, and when he stirred he felt his own arm brush against someone else's. Frowning more, Henry turned to see a scarlet haired douchebag lying quietly beside him naked. In fact, Henry was also naked.

Suddenly his heart sank and he sucked in air.

_Oh my God. It's all coming back to me. I went to Allen's place last night and we made out and starting touching each other and then we... Fuck._

Henry slipped out of bed, painfully trying to be quiet. Then came the panic as he realized the only clothes he'd worn the night before were Allen's; his options were to borrow Allen's clothes yet again or walk home in the nude. No, he couldn't risk the latter-not when people like Michelle and Dunhill and Emma lived in this town.

So he did the only thing he could do: grabbed Allen's clothes, pulled them on, and crept the hell out of there.

He managed to make it home without being seen, as everyone was still inside at this early hour. Henry's course of action would first be to change, then check up on Neil (the cow). But upon entering his own home, he saw a little green-haired guy sitting on his bed, munching on a bag of mushrooms.

Henry stared at him, who seemed completely oblivious to the farmer. "What the hell are you?"

The being looked up with wide, entranced eyes and a hanging jaw. He said nothing for a few seconds, only stared. But then he shook his head and groaned, "Whoa..." After he'd recovered from his mental trip, he gave Henry a big smile. "Hi there!"

The farmer marched over to the bed. "No, don't ' _hi there_ ' me. What the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?"

"The Harvest Goddess wanted us to introduce ourselves to the new farmer!"

"The Goddess...?" Henry furrowed his brows. "But she doesn't even exist."

The little guy laughed. "Good one!" He hopped off the bed and stood at Henry's feet. "I'm Aaron, one of the two local Harvest Sprites!"

"Right."

"We are magical beings that guard the land! Or at least... that's what we wish we could be. Really, we're just the Harvest Goddess's bitches."

"Yeah, that seems fitting."

"Yeah, well, that outfit makes you look like a tool."

Henry couldn't argue with that because the outfit belonged to Allen and Aaron was right.

Suddenly, a puff of black smoke interrupted their conversation. Once the dark and ominous cloud evaporated, a female Sprite was left. She was decked out in an all-black gothic outfit and sported thick black makeup on her eyes and lips. In her arms was a voodoo doll of sorts with messy stitches and button eyes.

"Oh, this is my sister, Alice! Say hi, Alice."

The girl muttered something but Henry couldn't make it out.

"Alice, stop wishing damnation on everyone we run into! It's really off-putting!"

"It's been great meeting you two, but you should really leave no-" Henry began, but was cut off by Alice.

She looked straight into his eyes as her own fogged up, and when she opened her mouth a foreboding threat was uttered. "There is a dangerous storm on your horizon. A trial awaits, along with pain and suffering. Darkness will consume you if you allow it to. Beware, beware... the frozen treats from the 9th level of Hell!"

The fog lifted from her eyes just as quickly as it'd came. Henry and Aaron stared at her; not with fear but with pure astonishment. As silence gripped them, Alice's eyes darted between the two boys and they continued to stare. Nothing was spoken, but the level of discomfort heightened.

Finally, Henry's eyes narrowed in on Aaron before he warned them in a low voice, "Get the hell out of my house."

"Okay, okay! But there's one more thing," Aaron said, and Henry rolled his eyes. Pulling a crumpled up piece of paper from thin air it seemed, Aaron urged Henry to take it. "Here. I found this in the forest and didn't know what to make of it. I figured you might know what it is."

With raised brows, Henry took the paper from Aaron and uncrumpled it. The ink was faint, blotchy here and dripping there, but it was legible:

_Dear Rachel,_

_I am writing this letter to tell you a story because I don't think you'd believe it if you heard it. About one year ago I moved into this valley with my "friend" Jill (I hope she's still alive). It was quiet and kind and filled with people who were remarkably dull, though very goodhearted. At least, it was like that for a short while. But things happened. Terrible, twisted things that make absolutely no sense to me, and most likely won't make much sense to you either._

_I can't explain everything, but some horrors are more significant than others, so I will try to make this simple._

_Let me just begin by saying that under no circumstances should you trust a man who looks like a Chihuahua._

_With love,  
Claire_

Henry stared at it blankly for a second before a realization struck him. He almost gasped. "The letter I found all the way back in chapter one! This has gotta be related to it! Another piece of the puzzle." He paused before adding, "The  _first_ piece of the puzzle."

"Well, that sounds really fun and everything, but I'm mad hungry and Alice doesn't really like the sunlight, so we should probably go. See ya tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow! What the hell are you going to bug me about tomorrow-" But the Sprites poofed before he finish his complaint. However, they were quickly forgotten as he glanced over the letter again. "What the hell kind of person looks like a  _chihuahua_?"

* * *

"This is terrible, Sanjay!"

Amir's body went limp with a hopeless sigh of frustration. His arms hung over the edge of the bathtub and a letter slipped from his fingers. Sanjay picked it up and read it himself, frowning more and more as his eyes scanned the writing.

"Well, that certainly is troubling."

"If I were over there right now, things would be different... I could push the platform further, have a more prominent voice. Even so, I will not bend over and allow them to beat me down with their massive caucus."

Sanjay cleared his throat lightly. "Your language, Master Amir..."

"Oh, Sanjay," Amir sighed, bringing a hand to his forehead. "That wasn't even the worst part of the letter."

"I did read it in full, and I am just as concerned as you are about the second matter your father brought up."

Amir began waving his hand back and forth across the top of the bath water, lighting swishing the bubbles around. "But speaking vaguely about even vaguer plot points is tiring, and I am not in the mood for stress."

"You need to relax, Master Amir. Shall I light some candles?"

"Yes, that would be pleasant. And... could you also tell me why you too are nude in the bath?"

"Is nudity not the best state in which to bathe?"

"Well, yes, but... I do find it strange that you suddenly removed your clothing and slipped in without say or warning."

"Does it bother you, Master Amir?"

"No, I cannot say that it does."

The two stared at each other without movements or words, just awkward silence.

Then a head of red hair slowly popped up from the side of the tub. With an expectant smile, Emma asked, "Are you two going to do it now, or what?"

Amir jumped, screamed, and clung to Sanjay all within a matter of seconds. Sanjay, who didn't mind the fact that his superior was naked and clinging to him, blinked at the woman. "Emma? How did you manage to slip in?"

Emma chuckled. "Nobody can escape me, Sanjay.  _Nobody_."

* * *

It was later that evening when Henry decided to head for the Inn. He wasn't wearing; in fact, that was the very last thing he wanted to wear; Allen was not something he wanted everyone to know about. Henry was not exactly proud of the fact that Allen was the reason for his slight limp.

_I was just caught up in the moment. It's not like I let him in because I think he's a decent person, or anything. He's just really hot and my resolve tends to disappear around hot guys._

Reason with yourself all you want, Henry. It won't change a thing.

When he arrived at the Inn, Hossan was behind the counter flipping through an issue of Cooking With Paula Deen and looking bored. Henry opened his mouth to say something, but the innkeeper beat him to it.

"Up the stairs, second door on the left," he instructed without looking up from his magazine.

"Okay, thanks..."

Following Hossan's guidance, Henry found the room. He could hear talking from the behind the door and rap music playing faintly in the distance. Reminding himself that engaging in more social activity was probably a good thing overall-at least for his reputation-he opened the door.

The setting inside was surprisingly calm. People were just sitting and talking comfortably over drinks, and others were playing cards. This wasn't a party with strobe lights and dubstep; this was just a casual get-together between reasonable adults. And that soothed Henry's nervous quite a bit.

"Henry!" Allen greeted enthusiastically, shooting up almost the very moment Henry opened the door, as if he'd been waiting for him the whole time. "I'm thrilled that you could make it." And like a carnivore advancing on its prey, Allen moved from the couch over to the door in just a matter of seconds. "May I have a word with you?"

Before Henry could react, Allen pushed him into the hallway and slammed the door behind him, confronting the farmer with fire in his eyes. "Where are my clothes?"

Henry backed up. "What clothes?"

"Do not play games with me."

The farmer swallowed. "I gave them a wash."

"Cold or hot?"

"Cold."

"Air dry?"

"Yes."

"Were they exposed to direct sunlight?"

"I hung them in the shade."

"Fair enough."

"Are you going to kill me?"

Allen leaned back against the door and folded his arms. "I see no reason to."

"You can stop by later to pick them up-no, wait... bad idea. Come get them in the morning."

"Oh, don't tell me you're freaking out about what happened between us."

Henry's eyes darted from side to side as he scanned the hallway for anyone who could possibly overhear. Even though the corridor was empty, he spoke in a hushed voice. "I just don't want you to think it's going to be a regular thing."

"Henry, it was nothing-just a little fling. You and I are on, roughly, a purple heart level."

"Purple heart! I let you stick your meat pistol in my ass!"

Allen scoffed. "What is this? A bad yaoi fanfic? Don't call it a meat pistol. Besides, why are you so upset?"

Henry bit his bottom lip. "Because you're  _you_ and there are better men, more decent men, I'd rather have slept with," he lamented. "I was just... caught up in the moment."

"A moment that lasted two hours?" Henry couldn't manage to come back with a clever retort. After a second or two of silence, Allen just rolled his eyes, opening the door and pulling the farmer into the room. "Like I said, don't worry about. We'll both act like it never happened, and don't mention anything to anyone, alright?" He dragged him over to the card table.

"Yes, Supreme Flawless Being of Perfection," Henry answered dryly.

"It's nice to see you catch on quickly."

At the table, Henry exchanged greeting with everyone except Neil (who pretended not to care that Henry was there and instead stared at his hand of cards with a scowl on his face).

"Wait a minute," Henry said after a second. "This isn't poker."

"We're playing Strip  _Uno_ ," Allen explained. "It's just easier that way. Thirsty? There's still some alcoholic lotus milk left."

"Some  _what_?"

"Oh!" Rod piped up. "Just a little FYI... the dish I brought is, in fact, a bowl full of real caterpillars. I totally misunderstood what Allen meant when he said 'bring gummy worms.'"

Henry's eyes darted, with slight hesitation, to the dish on the coffee table; sure enough, it was filled with squirming, fuzzy larva.

"I'm so glad you could make, Henry," Michelle chimed, breaking Henry from the deep stare he was giving the caterpillars.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It's kind of nice to be able to hang out with everyone. But could anyone tell me what the hell we're listening to?" The squeaky voice (almost like Aaron's) spitting out raps over hard beats was alarming at best.

Rod responded enthusiastically, "Oh, man! You don't know Tep$?"

"Tep money sign? Never heard of him."

Michelle chimed in, "He's only THE best Harvest Sprite rapper EVER!"

"Wait..." Henry's brows furrowed. "You mean those things rap?"

There was a grunt from Neil. "You've got a lot to learn about the Harvest Moon universe, noob."

"Do you play well, Henry?" Amir asked from two seats away, changing the topic for Henry's sake. The farmer was sure he felt his heart throb from hearing the beautiful sound of the prince's voice. Wait, maybe that wasn't his heart.

"Poker, I can play. But  _Uno_? Haven't had much experience with, but how hard can it be? I've never even heard of Strip Uno, but I guess it's possible to use anything as an excuse to get naked." There were a few hums of agreement from the others.

"I'm usually quite terrible at this," Amir continued. "It's especially unfortunate when we play these sorts of games where losing requires me to remove my clothes."

Henry's eyes lit up and he relished the thought with his overactive imagination.

"Alright, bitches," Allen called out as he began dealing cards. "Let's do this."

* * *

The game progressed just as ridiculously as anyone would have expected. Michelle wasn't even trying and by the third round she was already topless. The others who lost choose first to remove their glasses, jackets, and even jewelry. But it was a few rounds in when Henry got a crazy idea (maybe the music was finally getting to him).

He shot a look Sanjay's way to grab his attention. Once the man was looking back, he waggled his brows, looked over to Amir (who was oblivious), nodded, licked his lips, and rapidly blinked for two seconds. Through all of this, Sanjay somehow got the message and gave Henry a knowing nod. From that moment on, they worked together to conspire against Amir.

Their plan seemed to work for the most part, but Amir was being tricky. He removed a little article of clothing each time he lost, not yet pulling off his shirt or pants. And each time, Henry and Sanjay let out disappointed sighs.

On the very last round for the night, Amir was actually going to win. He had gotten surprisingly lucky, and was down to his last two cards.

"I have never been this close before!" He exclaimed softly, trying not to let his excitement show too much. Meanwhile, Henry and Sanjay had already admitted defeat.

When Amir threw down his second to last card with determination burning in his eyes and triumph just moments away, everyone held their breath. The room was dead silent, and Henry could only hear the thundering of his own heart. Everything he and Sanjay had worked for hung on this very beat.

And then the second passed. Amir's turn was over.

It was Tina who first shouted, "Wait, wait! He forgot to say  _Uno_!"

Everyone gasped. Amir sat there with a hanging jaw, petrified. "I must have been so caught up in the excitement that I forgot..." Then he slumped down into his seat. Off went his shirt, and Henry and Sanjay silently cheered.

But then they started to feel guilty.

Henry felt like he needed to say something. He cleared his throat. "Amir, I know you may have lost, but you lost like a champion. You put up a fight, and even beat the odds for getting that far. That's inspiring. That's what true winning is."

Amir's frown melted away and he smiled lightly despite the disappointment in his eyes. "Thank you, Henry. I had not thought about it that way. It makes me feel a little better." Henry smiled back.

Glad that Amir was no longer upset, Henry leaned back in his seat and admired Amir's topless body as everyone started chatting again. Eventually, Neil looked over to Henry (probably to grumble about something) but something below the farmer's waist caught his attention. His brows furrowed.

"Henry, is that a-"

"It's just my penis."

* * *

As the party was dying down (and everyone was dressed again), Henry pulled Yuri aside.

"Hey, I just want to apologize for the other day." She stared at him with stoic eyes but there were no hints of anything else. "It was out of line."

"It's okay."

Henry fumbled mentally. Somehow, Yuri's indifference didn't curb his guilty conscience. He needed to give her a reason for his behavior otherwise he'd look like a scumbag. This time he was going to tell the truth (in order to tell a convincing lie, of course). "Yuri, I need to tell you something that I've never told anyone before, not even my family." He swallowed, and Yuri looked at him with a little less apathy and a little more anticipation than usual. "I'm g-"

All of a sudden, the lights flickered off and there were several screams immediately following.

"Nobody panic!" Rod cried. "You'll scare the caterpillars!"

"Master Amir? Ah, I think I've found your hand."

"That is not my  _hand_!"

"Something touched...my backside..."

"Oops, that was me. Teehee!"

"Neil, is that you crawling around on the floor?

"Shut it, Allen. I'm trying to tap into my animal instinct to find the exit."

"Oh, oh, oh! Let me try that too!"

"Fuck off, Rod!"

"It probably short-circuited!" Michelle shouted over the chaos. "There's a surge breaker in the basement. I'll go down and see what I can do!" There was a quick pause before she added, "Henry, come with me!"

Before he could protest, he felt Michelle grab his arm and drag him off.

They made their way down to the basement, carefully maneuvering through the dark inn with Michelle leading as she pulled Henry along-arm linked with his. They grabbed a flashlight from Hossan when they reached the lobby.

"Here we are," Michelle said as she beamed the flashlight on the basement door. Then she quickly handed it to Henry. "You go first! It's too scary!"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Henry took the flashing and opened the door.

There was nothing but utter darkness and biting cold; Henry got chills before he even stepped through the door.

"You can do it, Henry!" Michelle cheered from behind him. "I believe in you!"

Henry shined the flashlight down the splintering staircase and swallowed. "Yeah, that makes me feel so much better."

He took the first step and the stairs creaked, alarming him and freezing him in his position. After a breath, he carefully took the next step and then the third came more naturally. He heard Michelle take a step behind him.

"Wait!" She cried out suddenly, startling Henry and stopping him in his tracks.

The farmer was half turned and ready to beam the flashlight at Michelle, but he felt something hard and cold suddenly impact the side of his head.

An excruciating pain shot through his head, face, and eyes and it knocked the wind out of him. The last thing he felt was his knees hitting the stairs before everything went black.


	7. The Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end times!!

"You've glanced outside the window each time you've passed, Master Amir."

Caught, the prince gave Sanjay a gentle, somber smile. "It's strange to not see him out there. Because this is such a small town, even the disappearance of a single person will not go unnoticed." His gaze met the floor.

Sanjay returned his prince's expression. "And that poor girl Michelle has been missing as well."

Amir blinked. "Oh? Michelle has been… missing? Hm. I hadn't noticed."

Sanjay cleared his throat. "I am sure Henry is fine. There is probably a very good explanation to all of this." Then he brightened his smile, raised his brows, adopting a more pleasant look to encourage Amir. "He may even show up today."

Amir looked to Sanjay, his own expression brightening. "That is true. It has only been three days."

"Yes, an optimistic attitude is a lovely attitude! Now, are you prepared to have me rub oil all over your naked body? Because I am most certainly ready."

* * *

Allen, Rod, and Neil sat on top of the salon counter, one by one. They were quiet, looking at the ground with dejected faces.

"Damn," Neil finally hissed. "With Henry gone, I have no one to be a complete jackass to."

"Neil, you can always find someone to be a jackass to."

"Shut up, Allen."

"Guys, guys," Rod piped up. "Together, our hair colors make the first part of the rainbow."

Allen and Neil looked to the spunky friend sitting between them. "Shut up, Rod."

Then a sudden  _THUMP_ against the side of the salon jerked their senses. Their heads shot up, and Neil growled,

"What the hell was that?"

In a flurry, the door opened, welcoming bell jingled, and a very gay brunette fell in through the doorway, hitting the ground with a  _thud_. The rainbow trio gasped in unison—except for Neil, because he never really showed any emotion other than indifference and anger, who just gaped.

"It's a ghost!" Rod cried.

Allen jumped off the counter. "Henry! You got dirt on my floor!"

Neil was speechless.

"Shhh!" The battered farmer hissed, raising a trembling hand to silence them. He brought himself to a shaky stand and pushed the door closed, resting against it afterward. "Nobody knows that I'm here," he started through panting breaths he was trying to control. "It needs to stay like that. For now."

"You look awful," Allen noted, judgmental devil eyes scanning every inch of Henry. "And I mean that in the most sensitive way possible, given the current situation."

Torn clothes, dirty face, bruises on his wrists, and prominent dark circles under his eyes made Henry look like he'd been in a dark place the past three days. Rod too was concerned.

"Yeah, man, what happened?"

Henry gave Neil a look and waited. And waited. "…No gonna say anything? No jerkish remarks? Nothing that I can play off of for our usual aggressive-but-secretly-flirty banter that may or may not hide unresolved sexual tension?"

Neil shook his head. "Nope. Nothin'."

Henry was slightly disappointed. "Oookay, then. Well, I was tortured endlessly for three days by a raging and horny psychopath and an evil witch."

Gasps from around the room.

Henry continued, "Then all of my limbs were cut off except my right arm, which I used to sew my other arm and legs back on after I murdered my captors in cold blood with an axe. To be fair, it was simply self-defense."

The bachelors stared at Henry with horror stricken eyes and mouths agape. Rod looked like he was near tears.

"Ah, I'm just kidding. None of that happened."

_Three, two, one…_

"Henry!"

"You little shit! You actually freaked me out! N-Not because I care about you or anything, but…"

"Henry, you jerk! I almost cried!"

"Hey, hey, calm down. I'll tell you what  _really_  happened."

The bachelors eased up and with much curiosity listened to the  _actual_  account of what happened.

"Alright… Me and that demon spawn went to the basement—"

Neil interrupted, "By demon spawn do you mean Michelle?"

"—yes, exactly. Now, we went down there and as I was heading down the stairs, she whacked me with a shovel and I passed out."

Allen rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "So typical of her."

"…She does this to people often?" Henry shook off the disturbing thought. "Anyway, when I regained consciousness I was tied up and there was a pentagram drawn on the floor in strawberry syrup and she was talking to some scary looking hooded figure—"

"Whoa! Pentagrams and hooded figures? Oh, oh!" Rod was practically jumping. "Michelle is friends with a Dementor!"

"Not quite, but close. Sandra  _can_  suck all the life and happiness out of you, but that's just because she looks terrible and lacks human compassion."

"Sandra?" The other boys said together, shocked it would seem.

"Hey, I hate to break it to ya, but Sandra is an evil witch hell bent on drinking virgin blood to stay alive forever. She is mentoring Michelle in the ways of black magic because Michelle is crazy for power and wants to become an unstoppable witch."

"I knew it," Neil growled. "I knew there was something wrong with that Michelle girl. Never trust someone who asks you if you wear boxers or briefs the first time you meet. Or someone who has pink hair."

Rod gasped. "Sandra and Michelle both have pink hair! Coincidence? I think not!"

"But where do you factor in, Henry?" Allen asked, bringing the story back to focus.

"I was the virgin sacrifice!"

"You're a virgin?" Rod asked, causing Allen to uncomfortably shift on his feet.

"That's the thing. I wasn't, and when I tried to tell them that, they thought I was lying."

"Did they try to kill ya anyway?!"

"Yeah, but…" Henry stopped, and the others looked at him expectantly. He just looked back sheepishly. "You guys are never gonna believe this."

"Henry, if we believed you when you said that Sandra and Michelle are witches seeking out virgin blood, we will probably believe anything you say."

"But this is different, Allen. This is… Okay. When Michelle was going to stab me, something stopped her. The knife just wouldn't go through. Like…" Henry wet his lips as he struggled for the right way to phrase it. "Like there was an invisible barrier blocking my chest. Does that sound crazy?"

Allen shrugged his shoulders. "Compared to everything else you've told us? I guess not."

"So, how did you escape?" Rod asked excitedly, bouncing a little.

"I took advantage when Michelle got caught off guard after her trying to jam a knife into my heart didn't work. I disarmed her, basically."

Rod gasped. "You cut off her arm?!"

"You keep believing that, Rod. Anyway, after kicking Michelle's knees in, thus disabling her for the time being, I temporarily blinded Sandra with strawberry syrup. She had bottles of it lying around, okay? Don't look at me like that. After that, I bolted. Busted right through the basement door and took off. It was dark, but I managed to run to the forest where a uh, wild monkey helped cut through the rope using a blade of pampas grass. I spent the night by the lake, and now… here I am."

Just seconds after Henry finished his story, the three bachelors bombarded him with questions. Soon, he couldn't even make out words because it was all a jumbled mess of noise.

"One at a time! There's plenty of me to go around."

"You're full of it," Allen scoffed, to which Henry raised a brow. "Now, answer my question! I want to know how come we couldn't find you when we checked the basement. After you and Michelle vanished, it was the first place we looked."

"Did you not hear the part about Michelle and Sandra being witches? They used an invisibility spell when you guys came down."

"Of  _course_."

"Why didn't you just call for help? Invisibility doesn't affect sound, does it?" Rod looked between his companions, seriously expecting an answer.

"Michelle was kind of choking me so I couldn't just call for help. You know, she seemed to get a lot of pleasure from that. There is something seriously wrong with that girl."

Guilt came over Allen's expression. "Oh. That would explain that strange…croaking noises I heard."

Neil shoved his hands into his pockets. "Tch. That doesn't sound too bad. I was hoping they actually tortured you like you said."

Henry narrowed his eyes. "Neil, I was felt up by a lunatic and force fed ice cream for three days."

Neil nearly grimaced at the mention of frozen sweets. "I would have broken my cyanide tooth by then."

"You have a cyanide tooth?"

"Maybe."

Allen cleared his throat. "Well, you're alive and well so we can be thankful for that, I guess. But you really do look awful and need to be cleaned up. A change of clothes would also help."

"And a shower. Allen, you've got a nice bathroom, right?"

"The best. And since I know you're going to ask—no, I don't mind if you shower here." Before Neil or Rod could say anything, Allen added, "Since you've been through a lot. I'm just doing you a favor because I have such a big heart."

Henry rolled his eyes and pushed off the door. "You boys are welcome to join me."

"Oh, please."

Rod shot up. "Wait! Henry! Is that it?" he asked, hungry for more of the story.

"Yep. Sorry, kid." But as Henry followed Allen up the stairs, he stopped and turned back. "Oh, there _is_ one more thing. We're all going to die in three days."


	8. The Wicked(est) Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry is in for a surprise when he visits the wicked witch in the twisted little black house.

The rainbow trio waited downstairs while Henry showered; unfortunately, none of them had taken up his offer to join him.

"He's delusional," Allen finally said with arms crossed.

Rod was occupying himself by spinning from side to side in one of the salon chairs."Whadda'ya mean?"

"Do you really believe anything he said? It sounded like it came from a poorly written fanfic."

Neil kept his hands shoved into his pockets. "I bet he got hammered, ended up lost in the woods, ate some weird mushrooms, and hallucinated the whole thing."

Rod lunged forward in his seat. "But where is Michelle? She was missing all this time, too! How do you explain THAT?"

"This wouldn't be the first time she disappeared for days on end without any warning or explanation afterward." Allen shook his head. "Probably another string of bachelor parties."

"I didn't know people hired magicians for bachelors parties."

"They don't, Rod. At least not the kind you're thinking of."

"I wanna hire one for my bachelor party."

"No, you don't."

"But... Hey... What if it's true though?" Neil's voice surprised both redheads, and they turned to him expectantly. "What if we really are going to die in three days? What would that mean? We're young, we haven't amounted to very much. Are we content to just... sit here and let our lives come to end when we've achieved nothing great, made no impact on the world, and never found happiness... never found love?"

Allen and Rod stared at Neil as they tried to digest his philosophical commentary. After a while, they too become stricken with despair because they realized that he was right. If it all ended in three days, what would they have to show for it? What legacy would have left behind? And could they die in peace knowing that they existed just so they could be courted by female protagonists over and over again?

They were all silent for a long time, toiling over the possibility of demise and meaninglessness.

"I guess we're fucked," Allen concluded after a while.

Yes, that was that. They were fucked. It was really all there was too it. Suddenly at peace with their inner demons, the boys had reached a new plane of existence.

"Haha, we're fucked!" Rod laughed.

"Ahaha!" Neil chimed in with a deep, throaty laugh.

"Bwhahah!" The three laughed together.

"Hey, has anyone seen my cat?"

At the top of the stairs, Henry was standing in Allen's clothes (again) and ruffling his hair dry with a towel.

"I was taking care of him while you were hallucina-I mean... being "tortured" by "witches" in the basement."

The farmer didn't bat an eye at Rod's skeptical modulation. Instead he flung his towel at Allen (who let out a snobbish sounding gasp of disgust) and turned to Rod. "Thanks, man. And Neil? She's okay too, right?"

"Oh," the Allen and Neil said together dismally.

"What do you mean  _oh_?"

"Well, nobody actually thought to feed your cow. I was out of town for the weekend because I took a trip to Forget-Me-Not Valley to impregnate some animals!" Neil said in defense.

"I don't have any excuses," Allen admitted. "I sometimes get so absorbed in myself that I forget most other people and things exist."

Rod jumped. "And the hero is... Rod! I fed your cow, Henry!"

The farmer breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God."

"Yeah, she totally loved the chicken salad I gave her!"

"You gave her  _what_."

"Chicken salad."

Henry, Allen, and Neil stared at Rod in disbelief and the boy deflated. "Was I not supposed to do that...? Uh oh."

* * *

Back on the farm, they were greeted by a horrific scene. It would be best not to mention the details, as they were quite gruesome.

"She ate my chicken. The cow ate my fucking chicken!" Henry threw his hands up.

"Well, look on the bright side!" Rod chimed. "At least your cow wasn't hungry while you were away."

"Yeah. No, you're right. How could I be so ridiculous as to get upset at the fact that my cow murdered my chicken in cold blood?"

"That's the spirit, Henry!"

"Hey, Henry," Neil started slowly. "I'll give you another chicken. For free. I know what it's like to lose an animal, and it sucks. It's the worst thing ever. So... ya know..."

Henry slowly turned to the blond. "Are you actually showing compassion and sympathy?"

"Look, I'm just as human as anyone else, even if I am cold and distant and aggressive. It's Allen who doesn't have a soul."

The stylist nodded. "He's right, you know."

Henry sighed as his shoulders dropped. "Well, Neil," he said to the grazing cow in all of its blissful ignorance, "you've had your first taste of blood. Who knows what sick, dark thoughts are corrupting that sociopathic brain of yours? Today, it was chicken. Tomorrow, alpaca. Next week? People. Preferably, Allen."

Neil stared off into the distance, slowly chewing a mouthful of grass and swatting fly away with her tail.

Henry turned to his fellow bachelors. "I guess I should say thanks. Thanks for, uh, caring. And coming to look for me even though it didn't work."

"That's what friends are for, Henry!"

Neil scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot. "It's not like I care about you because I care about you or anything...Wait, let me try that again."

"Well, I'd be lost if I didn't have someone to degrade, unabashedly judge, and look down on. So, I'm glad you're safe."

"Allen, you do those things to everyone."

"Oh?" The stylist smiled. "So I do." Then he turned to his redheaded companion. "Come on, Rod. We're going to marathon season 2 of Teen Wolf."

"Yay!" Rod cheered as he skipped off after Allen. "Puppies!"

And then there were two.

Henry and Neil stood in silence while refusing to meet glances. The thing about these uncomfortable silences was that they were almost like catch-22s; you wanted to say something so you'd stop being uncomfortable but you couldn't bring yourself to because you were  _already_  uncomfortable.

"So are you two gonna fuck or what?"

The boys jumped at the sudden, but all too familiar, anticipating voice behind them.

"Hello, Emma," Henry almost groaned.

"Henry, I have been worried sick about you! I thought you'd gotten into an accident in the mines or ate a bad mushroom or-why is your cow looking at me like that?"

"Don't worry about it."

"It's almost as if she has this crazy look in her eyes..."

"Don't worry about it."

Ignoring Neil's bloodlust, Emma clasped Henry's hand between hers excitedly. "Anyway, I'm so glad you're okay! There's something I want to tell you! And Neil, don't you start walking away! This involves you too!"

A deep, throaty groan was the wrangler's reply.

"Okay, okay, so, I started writing a fanfiction while you were gone. It's called Attack on Echo Village Host Club Over Flowers Basket."

"Well, shit."

"It's about a group of delicious teenage boys-roughly based on some of the men who live here in Echo Village-and our typical, boring, straight-edge, brunet protagonist that they're alll soooo crazy in love with for no good reason. And the inspiration for the main character is... guess!"

"I'm afraid to."

"You!"

"No."

"There's lots of yaoi subtext, a few not-safe-for-work chapters, and plenty of anime cliches. As each boy fights for your love and body, you struggle with choosing the one you love the most!"

"Can this be real?"

Emma narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice to adopt a serious tone. "Will it be the tsundere? The sassy gay friend? The exotic one? The other exotic one? The one people think they'll end up marrying but realize he's too youthful and happy?"

Neil growled again.

"That sound fascinating, Emma. I'll be sure to read it when you finish. And if you ever want me to proof-read the not-safe-for-work chapters, you'll know where to find me."

"Unless you disappear again!"

"Yeah, unless I do that."

"Which you'd better not do, young man!" She hummed. "Alright, I've got to get home and start chapter three!" She nudged the farmer and whispered with a wink before she headed out, "This one involves a ass-less chaps and toothpaste."

Neil shoved his hands into his pockets. "Well, I'm getting the hell out of here before I start to shrivel up and die. You might want to at least tell Dunhill that you're alive, Henry? He was posting 'Missing' signs all around town last I saw him."

Oh, right.

* * *

"Dunhill. What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm taking pictures, Henry! For my keepsake! My scrapbook!"

"Okay, I get that. But you've probably taken a dozen photos from a dozen different angles by now."

"Alrighty. Last one. Now, bend over."

"Did you just-"

"Huh? What? I aint said nothin'."

"Did you just tell me to-"

"It's so great to have ya back, Henry! I been postin' up these here signs all weekend 'cause we were all worried sick 'bout ya. Uh, what were you doin' for those three days, anyway?"

"Well, I... got lost. Fell in the lake and was carried off by the current. I washed up in another town and had to navigate my way back using my makeshift compass. Stopped and asked the forest animals for directions a few times. It all worked out in the end."

"You dont' say? Well, I'm glad ta year it! I reckon I'd better start tearin' them posters down. See, I was worried 'cause I lost maybe the evil witch got ya..."

The words hit Henry like pin needles and suddenly his mind was on fire. "The evil witch? The one up on the hill?"

"That's right. Livin' in the devilish black house. Gives me the heeby jeebies! She's known to be the rottenest, most powerful witch in all the land. She's stricken down man and beast alike. I even hear she gives the Goddess a run for her money!"

_Ding._

That was the sound of a bright idea.

* * *

A sickle. A hoe. An axe. A hammer.

Those were the most viable tools in Henry's arsenal, though he wasn't sure if they could stop a witch. Certainly not a witch who was feared and known to be all powerful.

A witch who could put an end to Michelle and Sandra.

A witch who lived in a villainous black house in the outer reaches of Echo Village. As Henry got closer and closer, the sky seemed to darken. The grass wasn't fresh or green with life, it was gray and looked of death, as if to warn passerbys. Even the bricks on the path were beaten and mislain.

The sickle trembled in the grip of his shaking hand as he stood at the witch's chipped, black door. As if by nature, he looked around to see no one. He was alone with his fear and the air was much too quiet.

Before he could walk away and say 'to hell' with the entire plan, he willed himself to knock. Two strong, solid knocks and nothing more. As if on cue, the sudden cackle of crows nearby sent a startling jolt through his body and his heart thundered so hard he swore his chest hurt.

But the crows were the least of his worries when he heard the slow, haunting creek of an opening door.

_This is it. I'm either going to die, or... actually, I'm probably just going to die._

His eyes shot wide open when he saw what was standing in the doorway for him. His chest dipped as he sucked in air, and the pathetic sickle he thought could protect him fell from his limp grip and onto the cold brick.

In the moment, he'd met hell.


	9. It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Four Horsemen are known as Madness, Deception, Chaos, and Tsundere.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer."

Before Henry stood a witch of legendary power, one feared by many and revered by others… and she was wearing nothing but a black Metallica t-shirt, striped ankle socks, and hot pink briefs.

"Like what you see?" She was leaning with an elbow on the doorframe and cheek resting against her knuckles. The wavy blonde mess that was her hair, the dark circles under her eyes, and the scratchiness of her voice suggested she'd just woken up (or given up on life in general).

Henry didn't want to say anything, but he had to because this was the kind of situation one could not just simply walk away from.

"Are you… the witch?"

"You're lookin' at what's left of her, kid." She folded her arms and raised her brows upon quickly noticing the sickle on the ground. "Well, since you had the balls to knock on my door, might as well offer you a drink. Hey, don't just stand there! Come in."

With reluctance, Henry followed her inside. His stomach dipped the minute he stepped through the door.

The inside of her house was in deplorable condition. Bookshelves lined both the left and right walls, but most of their contents were scattered about the floor. Potion bottles, jars of what looked like human organs, old books with worn and tethered covers, and empty booze bottles served as obstacles to walking.

There was a small round table in the center of the mess with a kitchenette behind. The Witch pulled two beer from the fridge and popped the caps with a bottle opener. Vapor wafted from the mouths of the bottles.

"Go on, have a seat. The chairs don't bite. Not anymore, anyway."

It's when he looked back at the Witch that Henry noticed she had the word 'FOXY' written in big black letters on the back of her underwear. Reluctantly, he sat down and tried not to think about it.

"Nice bachelor pad you've got."

"I'm between relationships right now," the Witch said in her defense, bringing the bottles to the table and having a seat. "Things are a little messy."

"Just a little?" He took the cold bottle in his hand but didn't drink from it quite yet.

Noticing, the Witch shot him a look. "It's not poison."

"Some people seem to think it is."

"Screw that." She wasted no time before adding, "And let's just cut to the chase; why the hell are you here? I don't get visitors, and if I'm wrong—which I'm not—you came here ready to kill me."

Finally Henry took drink; if he was going to banter with a witch, he might as well have alcohol in his bloodstream. Wait. That didn't sound like a good idea.

"Only if I had to."

"So you've heard the rumors?" She nearly sung, showing amusement for the first time.

"Are they only rumors?"

When she paused, Henry knew she wasn't going to give a straight answer. "You know, people used to cower at the mere mention of my name. I used to spread pain and tragedy. When I was in my prime, I was evil as evil could be. I started a plague once. I'd set entire villages on fire just because I could. I even completely took out every wifi signal in an entire city once. You don't get much eviler than that!"

"What happened?"

"My motivation went to shit. Instead of turning rain into blood, I started breaking up couples. Instead of putting hexes on rabbits to turn them into bloodthirsty beasts, I made a few cows sick. Then one day I sent my arch nemesis to another dimension by accident. Without her around, my will to be evil grew fainter and fainter until it just… died. Now look at me! I'm a hot mess!"

"So you quit the whole magic thing?"

"Hell no! I just need a good reason to start stirring up trouble again. Something really exciting to get me in the mood for some good ol' doom and destruction."

Henry lowered his voice. "What if I told you that the world is gonna end in three days?"

She scoffed. "What? Like I've never heard that before."

"Yeah, she didn't think you'd be up to the challenge either."

Bingo—he hit a nerve. " _She_?"

"You've got competition, Witchy."

"I'm listening, kid."

The farmer leaned back in his, pleased with himself for getting this far but knowing the challenge wasn't over quite yet. He had to make these next few minutes count.

"There's a witch in town. Name is Sandra. She has an underling named Michelle. Really sick, perverted—"

"How sick?"

"She masturbates to snuff films. Don't ask me how I know that. I wish I didn't."

"How the hell did you get tangled up with these whack jobs?"

"Well," Henry wet his lips. "The thing is, Sandra is apparently hundreds of years old but drinks virgin blood in order to stay alive, and…"

"And?"

"You know."

The Witch gave him a look, then nodded her head when it hit her. "Ooh. You're a virgin. Okay, got it."

"That's not exactly true, but anyway… They're apparently on a quest for ultimate power—"

The Witch scoffed. "So cliche. When will these amateurs ever learn?"

"—And as I was sort of running for my life," the Witch snickered, "I heard Sandra screaming about how in three days she was going to 'rain down death and destruction upon the whole of Echo Village and everyone will suffer' and the flesh will melt off our bones and we'll become sacrifices to the Dark Lord."

"She said it just like that?"

"Maybe. I was paraphrasing."

The Witch drummed her fingers on the table, chin resting in her palm. Henry waited silently as she hummed in contemplation.

"So, what you're telling me is that if I join your little militia, I get to further prove that I'm the baddest and strongest witch in the world,  _and_  I get to possibly see people melt?" She slammed her beer bottle on the table and Henry jumped. "Count me in!"

"That was surprisingly easy."

"Look at me, kid. Look around. I've given up. I would have taken any sorry excuse to get back into the swing of things." She paused for some time. "Gimme that sickle."

"What? Oh, right…" Henry reached into his tiny rucksack and shuffled around until he found the sickle.

"How the hell did you fit that in there?"

"Don't ask me. It just happens."

"If we're going up against magic, you need to be prepared." Grabbing the sickle, the Witch stood up and held it out at arms length. "You might want to stand back," she warned. After Henry jumped out of his seat and took a few gracious steps back, the Witch closed her eyes to concentrate her powers.

A dark aura formed over her hand and latched onto the sickle, slowly spreading from the handle to the the shiny blade. But it not only consumed the sickle, it transformed the sickle. The wood blackened, elongated, the blade extended and took a new form with dips and curves. No longer was it the sickle a simple tool for farming; it had mutated into a scythe.

Henry stared at the ghastly weapon breathlessly until the Witch swung it at him and he was staring into the blade.

"Ever heard of Cursed Tools?"

He swallowed. "Am I looking at one?"

"A replica, anyway." Much to his relief, the Witch lowered the scythe and handed it to him. "Centuries ago, powerful and magical weapons were created by a sorcerer—"

"Wait, someone decided to make evil weapons out of…  _farm tools_? Is that what you're telling me?"

"We all do things we regret."

"No kidding."

"As I was saying… the Cursed Tools were a threat to humanity so the Harvest King created his own tools; these were exact replicas of the Cursed Tools, but they possessed holy power and were known as the Blessed Tools. The Harvest King and the sorcerer battled using these weapons but it was a stalemate. After the battle, neither sets were ever seen again. Rumor has it the originals are scattered deep within the mines of Mineral Town and Forget-Me-Not Valley."

Henry stared at her with a slack-jaw, brown eyes wide and sparkling. "So…," he started slowly, "I could kill someone with this thing?"

"Now we're talkin'. That scythe is a magical weapon so it's going to royally screw those two witches and protect you from any of their fireballs. But don't think you can just run around cutting people's heads off. You couldn't even if you wanted to. The blade may look sharp but if you try to slice anyone in half, it goes right through them. Trust me, I've tried."

"I don't plan on cutting anyone's head off." He paused. "Well, actually…"

The Witch walked to her window, looking out past the dying grass at the little houses lined up neatly side by side though packed in tight. "You need to warn those people, that way when they're all burning in a sea of flames you can at least tell them you told 'em so."

"Yeah, that'll work. My friends already think I'm insane." Though it took a second, Henry froze the moment he realized what he'd said. Before he could regret anything, the Witch's voice demanded his attention.

"Of course they're not gonna believe that one of their own is plotting against them." She turned back to him. "That's why I have a better idea."

* * *

"Master Amir will be with you shortly," Sanjay said as he poured tea.

Taking the cup, Henry nodded. "Thanks for inviting me over."

"And thank you for coming on such short notice. We were both relieved when Dunhill came by earlier and told us that you were safe. Master Amir seemed quite worried over your absence."

Henry brought the teacup to his lips. "He was?"

"Perhaps you've left an impression on him. If you need me, I'll be finishing lunch preparations."

With a bow, Sanjay slipped into the kitchen and Henry was left to think about all of the other things he would like to leave on Amir. However, his blissful fantasies were cut short when he heard someone screaming from upstairs.

"Help! Help!"

It was Amir.

Henry was caught between running upstairs and getting Sanjay; he could feel himself wanting to jump up but indecision was keeping his ass planted on the couch. Assuming that Amir would only scream for help in a real emergency, he finally jumped to his feet and took off upstairs.

"I"m coming!" He reassured as the cries for help persisted. Finally, after opening the wrong door twice, Henry found the source of the calamity and he rushed in with reckless abandon.

It was the bathroom.

Amir was standing there.

In nothing but a robe.

_Nothing but a robe._

"Oh, thank goodness you—" He stopped and stared at the frozen farmer in the doorway. "Oh. You're not Sanjay."

"Y-You were screaming for help?" Henry managed to sputter.

"Well, yes. It's just a funny little thing I do."

Henry's head spun.

_Funny? little…thing? fuNNY LITTLE THING?_

"You see, I do have a bit of a problem…" Amir pulled a gorgeous bottle—perfume of some sort?—from a nearby shelf. "Usually after I've dried off from the bath, Sanjay will oil my body. It is very important in having smooth skin and a nice complexion. Some of the places are quite hard to reach, however, which is why I was calling for help."

"So you… you want…"

The robe hung off Amir's bare shoulders and all Henry could do was stare. Without warning, the robe came off Amir's shoulder and fell to his feet. Henry sucked in air so fast that it hurt and suddenly he felt lightheaded. Probably because all the blood was rushing to his penis.

"You would only have to lightly rub this oil onto my back and lower back—Henry, are you alright? You're making a strange noise… like some sort of animal. A dying squirrel, perhaps?"

"Wh-what are y-you talking abOUT?"

"Are you shaking? Henry, is everything—there you go! Making that sound again!"

"H-Hnnghhrghh…."

"Your face is completely red! Oh, don't tell me that you're shy… Henry, it's alright! We're both men, here."

"Th-that's the p-problem…"

"Oh, come now… Here," Amir put the bottle and Henry's shaking hands and slowly turned around. "Just dab a bit on your hand and start rubbing."

With one look at that sweet ass, Henry was pushed to his limit. An extreme dizziness came over and he was sure he heard horns sounding from the gates of Heaven. There was a light up ahead in the distance and it whispered sweet nothings to him. He reached out to grab it, but then everything went black.

* * *

Sandra hadn't moved from her bed since the ordeal. On one hand, she was resting to gather up her powers in preparation for the apocalypse. On the other hand, Henry had sort of blinded her with ice cream syrup so she would have had little success moving around anyway.

"Michelle!" She crowed. "Bring me a glass of 'wine!' I thirst."

"Yes, Master!" The pink haired witch had been waiting on Sandra hand-and-foot ever since the old bag was blinded. Running to the wine cupboard, Michelle glanced over the bottles. "Do you want rat blood, bat blood, or alligator blood?"

"Is there anymore mandrake infused Chupacabra blood flavor?"

"Uhhh, nope! We're all out."

"Oh, just give me the damn bat blood, then."

After pouring the wine, Michelle handed the glass to her bedridden mentor. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Master?"

Sandra took a sip and breathed in. "That really hits that spot, that bat blood." Then she pursed her lips. "Let's see… Fluff my pillow, turn the damned air conditioner on, straighten up the room, change my diaper—"

"Master Sandra…"

"Is that an objection I hear? Don't you want me to be at maximum power when we destroy this pathetic excuse for a village?!"

"What could those idiots possibly do to stop us, even if you were at only a tenth of your overall power? They're weak, mortal, oblivious…"

"Yes, yes, I know that, but don't you just want to see Hell rain down on them with all its power and might? And guess who can't make that happen if  _someone_  doesn't change her diaper?!" She went on to grumble, "Besides, you owe me for letting that virgin get away…"

"Yes, Master."

With a sigh, Michelle began to do Sandra's dirty work—again. She was always the finding the virgins, gathering ingredients for potions, making blood sacrifices. There was no doubt that Michelle thought highly of Sandra, but she longed for the day where she could stand on her own using her own strength and malevolence. But this wasn't the day, and yet again she found herself bound to doing mundane work for perhaps one of the only people she cared about.

After fluffing the pillows and turning the TV to General Hospital and so on, Michelle cut the lights and headed out. However, she stopped in the doorway before leaving. Looking back at the close-to-dozing off Sandra, she said quietly, "Goodnight, Master."

* * *

"So I'm really sorry about passing out in your bathroom."

Although Henry missed lunch while he was out, Amir and Sanjay offered him cake as compensation. He agreed without hesitation.

"It is quite alright." Amir drank tea across from him on the opposite couch. "The fumes from the oil can be a bit overwhelming to those not accustomed to it."

"Yeah, let's stick with that."

Sanjay offered the farmer a warm smile. "How are your enjoying your cake?"

"It's heavenly. I really like whatever this creamy stuff is."

"Ah, that would be a paste I created from spider monkey brains."

Henry froze, refusing to chew the bite he'd just taken.

"I'm just making jest!" Sanjay laughed and Henry nervously laughed along. "That is actually white chocolate and almond frosting."

"Henry," Amir stated, leaning forward, "You haven't yet told us why you disappeared for the weekend. I know that it may very well be none of our business, but we're a tight-knit community, you see… We tend to worry when someone goes missing without a word, especially someone such as our farmer."

"Uhh… I was just visiting family. I didn't tell anyone? You sure about that?"

Amir frowned. "No? I don't believe anyone knew of it."

"Geez. Silly me. Well, hey, I'm here now. Alive. In one piece. All my blood still in my body where it belongs. No mortal wounds whatsoever."

"Yes… And we are all very glad for it."

"Right…" The farmer poked at his cake. He knew he needed to change subject, fast. "So, hey, I've got a question… Why Echo Village?"

"Pardon?"

"There a hundred other cities that are arguably much nicer, and yet you want to choose… here. Why?"

Amir's entire demeanor changed; hands came around his tea cup, shoulder drew closer together, eyes softened.

"Echo Village is actually our sister city. At first I was a bit skeptical of staying here, but I quickly learned something very important… this place is beautiful. The people lead simple, honest lives. Although some might be strange or unsettling, these people care about each other. They'll sit on benches and talk to each other for hours on summer nights, they'll all go out in groups and gather firewood during cold, winter mornings. This is a place where the most important thing is community and harmony." He looked down into his tea and continued in a soft voice, "I grew up around liars and politicians. Though my family was caring, the rest of the world was not so kind. When I go back to my home each autumn, I end up missing Echo Village terribly."

After a moment Sanjay added, "We've both grown very close to the people here. Though this place is very humble, it was also very welcoming. We feel like we're at home here."

Amir look up at Henry with a soft smile. "I would be heartbroken if anything happened to this place. It is just as Sanjay says… our home away from home."

Henry was quiet. Never had he imagined that anyone could feel so strongly about a small village in the middle of nowhere. And never had he imagined that he of all people—a guy who tried to distance himself from attachments with apathy and sarcasm—would be moved by heartfelt words from an acquaintance.

But it was happening. In that moment that Henry swore to himself he wouldn't let Sandra and Michelle destroy Echo Village. He looked at his hosts with serious eyes and just as silence was setting in, he gave them his promise. "If anything happens to Echo Village, you can blame me. And because I really don't want to let you down, nothing is gonna happen."

* * *

The next morning was cooler than others. A soft breeze rustled the grass and leaves as Neil and Rod headed their horse carts for the plaza just like they did any other day. However, when they got closer they noticed a large group of townfolk had gathered around; something was happening, but they couldn't see what it was. Leaving their carts behind, they ran in for a better look.

Neil seemed genuinely excited when they approached the crowd. "Oh boy, public execution!"

"This is  _not_  a public execution," droned Allen.

Ignoring him, Neil stood on his tiptoes to peek his head up over the crowd.

Rod began jumping up and down to get a better look too. "Hey, hey! What's goin' on? What do you see, Neil?"

"I think that's Henry in the middle there. Oh yeah. I'm gonna enjoy this. What do you think it's gonna be? Firing squad? Guillotine? Waterboarding? Please tell me it's waterboarding."

"Neil, you're terrible!" Rod whined. "You're seriously gonna make me tear up!"

Allen brought an arm around Rod and shot Neil a glare. "Shhh, don't listen to him, honey. He has emotional problems brought on by a childhood that lacked compassion."

Just then Henry's voice broke through the murmuring of the small crowd.

"Hey, everyone! I just need your attention for a couple minutes!"

Neil shoved his hands into his pockets. "Just glad he didn't make a fucking Slim Shady joke."

"Is he using a traffic cone as a megaphone?"

"Sadly."

[ muffled rap music in the distance ]

"Sorry, sorry!" Clement called out before turning his boombox off.

"Okay, that was weird as hell." Henry shook his head and brought the cone back to his mouth. "I have some grave news, but also some good news!" There were gasps among the crowd and the murmuring picked up again. It was a few moments later that Neil and Allen and Rod noticed Henry look at them. It was a pleading look, as if he were begging them for something, trying to tell them something. But the look lasted only a few seconds and none of them could successfully read into it.

"That witch," Henry continued, making a wild gesture pointing to the west side of the village, "in that scary looking black house over there…" He paused, let the suspense build, and when he knew the crowd was shivering with anticipation, he delivered. "…Is going to kill every last one of us."


End file.
